


A Regrettable Deception

by NikiFrost



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caretaking, Deception, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Family, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Little!Emma - Freeform, Mom!Regina, Motherhood, Swan Queen - Freeform, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 75,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6309304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikiFrost/pseuds/NikiFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SwanQueen AU: When Regina Mills applies to adopt a child, a man named August brings her a beautiful five year old little girl named Emma... Little does she know, Emma is the prophesied Savior, having used her last bit of magic to transform into a child so that she can spy on the Evil Queen until her curse-breaking 28th birthday arrives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, SwanQueen is endgame... After Emma's cover is blown and Regina is done being pissed, anyway. ;)

NikiFrost.DeviantArt.com || Niki-Frost.Tumblr.com 

* * *

 

“I found them.”

“August…”

“It’s them, Emma. I found them.”

Emma sighs, closing her eyes and dropping her forehead against the wheel, one hand pressing the phone to her ear and the other clutching at a stale takeout coffee. She can almost hear August’s palpable excitement over the line, just like the last eighteen times he’s called to tell her that he’s found _them._

“I’m parked in the middle of nowhere in the pissing rain, staking out a freaky-ass motel at two in the morning, and you think this is a good time to try this shit?” Irritation bleeds through her voice and she can’t help it. She’s tired, hungry, and desperate for a lead on the scumbag she’s supposed to be tracking down. She doesn’t need her adoptive brother trying to raise her hopes - _yet again -_ over having finally located their lost family.

“It’s not-- damn it, listen, Emma! It’s really them! I found them! This is the real deal!”

“Yeah, you said that the last eighteen times, too. Ever think that we’re just not meant to find them until I turn twenty eight? The prophecy was specific for a reason.”

“But the--”

 _“August,”_ she snaps out. “I turn twenty eight in six months. We’ll find them after my birthday. Right now, I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I would like to finish this damned job so I can get _paid_ and go back to my apartment, so _please_ …”

She doesn’t even bother finishing her sentence; doesn’t have to. August has been with her for her entire life - he’s been her loyal guardian ever since they came through the wardrobe into this world (though some days she can't help but wonder if he’s just bat-shit crazy and she’s an idiot for believing his stories about her being some sort of fairytale Savior) - and they’ve mastered the art of understanding each other’s tones of voice and body language. He just sighs loudly in her ear, knowing when to back down.

“Fine. When you’re done, can you come home?”

 _Home._ Yet another word that has a different meaning to them. Home isn’t the tiny apartment she’s been renting in the city, nor is it the modest little townhouse that August has in Boston. Home is them, together, and she knows that means she’ll be the one traveling to him again.

“Yeah, alright,” she huffs, staring blearily through her windshield at the motel across the road. “I’ve gotta go, August.”

“Be safe, Em.”

“Always am,” she mutters, hanging up as soon as she hears his little bark of laughter.

 

“Table for one?”

“No.” Emma shakes her head absently at the hostess, gazing across the lounge for a familiar face. “He’s already here.” Without waiting for a reply, she heads right in, having spotted her brother’s leather jacket-clad form at their usual table by the far windows. August found this place when they first moved to Boston in their early twenties, and he claimed the window view of the city below was great muse for his writing. Emma just enjoys a good hot cocoa and a muffin in a classy, high-rise lounge restaurant. (Especially when August is paying.) She’s halfway across the room when his Emma-senses alert him to her presence, and then he’s on his feet and striding to meet her.

“Hey, brat,” he greets, a grin splitting his face as he catches her up in a bear hug, lifting her clear off her feet. Emma grunts and laughs, squeezing an arm around the back of his neck, always happy to see him no matter how irritated they can get with each other. He sets her back on her feet and they drop into their seats; Emma’s pleased to find a mug of hot cocoa with cinnamon waiting for her.

“How did your job go?” He asks, as she scoops up a glob of whipped cream with her finger and licks it off. Emma narrows her eyes at him.

“Let’s just get right to it, I know you’re dying to. Go on, make your case. The floor is yours, Pinocchio.” She makes a _‘go ahead’_ motion with her arms, having spotted the manilla envelope next to his plate when she’d first sat down. August smirks and picks it up.

“You wouldn’t believe who outed the location.”

“Oh?”

“The Evil Queen herself.”

Emma’s brows jump as August begins pulling out paperwork. “The Evil Queen? _How?_ She hid them all. She’s the reason we haven’t been able to find anyone.”

“Well it looks like Her Majesty was getting bored and lonely in her hidden, cursed little town.” August slides a sheet of paper across the table to her. Emma surveys it with doubtful green eyes, cocking her head to one side as confusion crosses her face.

“What is this? An adoption form?” She knows damn well what it is; she and August used to hope that one of their kinder foster families would fill one out and adopt them both. It never happened, of course, and once August turned eighteen, they’d both snuck away to live on their own, having given up hope on any semblance of a stable life. Besides, they had fairytale characters to track down.

“She’s trying to adopt a child. But look at the name and address.”

Emma’s eyes flicker to the information section, taking in the elegant cursive.

_Regina Mills. Storybrooke, Maine._

“Storybrooke,” Emma repeats, as if it’s the worst pun she’s ever heard. If this is the real deal, she wants to know what the heck the Evil Queen was thinking, giving the town a name like that. Talk about on-the-nose.

 _“Regina,”_ August stresses, tapping his finger firmly on the paper. “Everyone called her the Evil Queen but I heard your mother call her by name once or twice. It was Regina. This has got to be her; Regina Mills, mayor of Storybrooke. Did you know that Storybrooke’s not even on a map? I’ve Googled it. It literally doesn’t exist.”

Emma purses her lips, staring down at the paper like she’s still not quite sure what to think. August had found promising leads in the past but they’d all led to dead ends, and _those_ usually ended with the two of them getting wasted at a bar, drowning their sorrows in alcohol. What made this time any different? What if they ended up in some hick town and this _Regina Mills_ was just some nobody who had absolutely nothing to do with them? She didn’t want her heart to break for a nineteenth time. It was getting harder and harder, to track down these leads - hoping to find her family, her _parents -_ and getting nothing but disappointment in the end.

“August,” she sighs, and her brother already knows what that sound means.

“Emma, please, we have to try,” he pushes.

“We’ve tried so many times already. Why can’t we just wait? The prophecy said it would happen on my twenty eighth birthday. We just have to wait six more months and then fate or whatever will lead us to them. Can’t you just relax and enjoy it?”

“And do what? Work a nine-to-five job to pay the rent? Binge watch Netflix? Take a college class? I want to go home, Emma. To my papa, to your parents. _Our home._ I don’t want to wait anymore. If there’s a chance we can find them _right now,_ why shouldn’t we?”

Emma goes quiet, staring down into her now lukewarm cocoa. She has multiple reasons, and August knows all but one. That one is too personal and, frankly, too embarrassing to admit.

“Please,” August coaxes, his voice softening. “Just one more try, Emma. One last time. And if I’m wrong, we stop searching, and we’ll wait for the prophecy to fulfil itself.”

Emma lifts her head to meet pale blue eyes, his gaze begging. Her shoulders shift as she sighs, glad that her last paycheck was a big one. Gas was expensive.

“Fine. What's the plan?”

 

The drive to Maine isn’t as terrible as she thought it would be. In fact, she and August haven't had a road trip in so long that she actually finds she's enjoying herself, as long as she doesn't think too long about their destination. They stop at several roadside locations for hot dogs and bathroom breaks, and August even splurges and buys her a pretty little pendant necklace from a local gift shop when she’d dragged him inside to browse. It’s a silver swan on a sterling silver chain, and a little gold crown with an embedded green jewel sits atop the swan's head. Emma wears it immediately and vows to never take it off, which has her brother grinning, looking all too pleased with himself.

They're driving down a long, endless road with nothing but forestry on all sides when Emma huffs and rotates a stiff wrist. “How much farther? We’re gonna have to stock up on gas and some food at the next pit stop if I have to drive through the night.”

“Not much farther. Your wrist wouldn't be so stiff if you had let me drive some of the way.”

“No one drives my baby.”

“I let you drive my bike!”

“That's your choice.” Emma smirks and sticks her tongue out at him. August snorts, readjusting the map across his lap and tracing his fingers along the bright red line he’d drawn in with a marker.

“It’s somewhere along this road. I assume there's some sort of enchantment on the place since normal people drive right through without stopping. We shouldn't be affected though, since we’re not from this world.”

“Right,” Emma murmurs, twitching a brow and saying nothing more. August is in no mood to argue, so he shuts his mouth and they continue on in silence.

An hour later, the road still has no end in sight and Emma’s chewing on her lower lip anxiously. “August,” she begins, weary.

“Keep going,” he simply says, eyes ahead.

“We’ve been going down this road for almost two hours. We’re going to reach the other side of Maine at this rate.”

“Keep going, Emma.”

She counts to ten in her head, reigning in her impatience. “I know you wanted this to be it, August, and so did I, but--”

“Emma.”

“-the prophecy will come true when I turn twenty eight, so can't we just wait? We could go on a vacation--”

_“Emma.”_

“A few months on a beach somewhere, then we’re back in time for my birthday--”

_“Emma!”_

He slaps the dashboard with one hand while pointing ahead excitedly with the other. Emma turns her eyes back to the empty road and - well, it’s not so empty anymore. It’s the first road sign they've seen in a long time, and it clearly reads: _Welcome to Storybrooke._

“Shit,” Emma whispers. Then, louder, “Don't get ahead of yourself. This could just be a big coincidence.”

“No. This is it. This is it, Ems. Don’t you feel it?”

They drive past the sign and August visibly shivers. Emma feels a chill run down her spine, which only reinforces her desire to turn around and drive away. “I _feel_ like this is going to be a horrible disappointment.”

“Humor me,” he says, though his expression is intense and he’s staring intently down the road. They reach town a few minutes later, cruising down a relatively empty main street. A man walks a dalmatian along the sidewalk, his head turning to look curiously at the yellow Bug as they drive by. Emma sinks down a little further into her seat, wishing she were invisible.

“Maybe driving right into town is a bad idea. What if the Evil Queen sees us?”

“Oh, now you believe that they’re here?” August scoffs at her.

“Just being careful,” Emma mutters.

“Fine. Find somewhere to park. We’ll sneak around on foot then; can’t possibly stick out anymore than your yellow Bug.”

Emma turns down another street just past a diner and parks along the sidewalk by an old brick building, figuring it’s as good a spot as any thanks to the lack of parking signs. August is already out of the car, striding around the corner to check out the diner they’d passed. Emma hurries after him after snatching a grey hoodie and a baseball cap from the backseat, throwing both on to effectively hide her red leather jacket and her blonde curls. The last thing she needs is to stick out like a sore thumb; this town looks like the sort where everyone knows everyone, and that’s not a good thing for them.

“August,” she hisses, catching up to him as he peers curiously into the windows of the diner. Her eyes follow his, finding a leggy brunette waitress strutting through the diner and tending to the customers. There are a few short, burly men seated at the counter, an older woman standing by the register, and a fair amount of people scattered throughout the booths or tables.

“Recognize anyone?” She asks, noticing the grin splitting his features. Instead of replying, he turns and grabs her in a tight hug, a laugh of delight escaping him.

“We’re here!” he cries, planting a kiss on her cheek. “This is it, Emma! We’re here! Look!” He spins her around, pointing towards the diner windows. “See that waitress? That’s Red! And the old woman, that’s Granny. I know that dwarf there on the left, that’s Grumpy, he was at the war councils too.”

Emma’s eyes follow his pointing finger and she soaks in the sight of all these people he seems to remember from his childhood, but she’s not sure how she’s supposed to feel right now. Excited? Elated? She doesn’t know these people, and the only thing they know about her is she’s supposedly the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, sent away in a wardrobe shortly after birth to return as their Savior twenty eight years later. Heck, how is she supposed to feel when they find her parents? The parents she’s never known?

“August,” she mutters, heart sinking at the prospect. It takes her a moment to realize he’s gone quiet again, staring hard into the diner and frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“They look exactly as I remember them…”

“Uh… So?”

Slowly, August’s blue eyes shift to her. “Emma, they haven’t aged a day since I last saw them twenty seven years ago.”

“Oh.” Emma blinks, the information slow to process in her mind. When it does, she feels her knees weaken. “Oh, god. August, my parents--”

“They’ll be our age,” he realizes, faintly. “Shit. What the hell is going on in this town?”

Emma sags against August’s side, now thankful that he’s still got an arm around her waist. He tightens his grip on her and bumps his head against hers.

“Hey, we’ll figure this out, Ems. Everything will be fine. We’re _here._ We’ve found them. That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, halfheartedly. Then, “Now what? Should we go in there and meet them? Maybe they’ll know where my parents are right now?”

“I… I guess so,” he says after a moment, realizing that he never really had a plan for when they actually _arrived._ No one had told him _how_ they’d break the Evil Queen’s curse, only that Emma would be the one to do it on her twenty eighth birthday. Emma seems to realize the same thing at the same time, because she looks up at him with concern all over her features.

“What if I can’t break the curse until my birthday? Should we really make our presence known until then? If the Evil Queen finds out we’re here, she’ll kill us.”

“There’s no magic here, Emma. She can’t…”

“Not with _magic_. What do you want to bet she’s got a handgun? Or if the cops here are corrupt or something, she could leave us to rot in a cell. I don’t want to screw this up, August. We can’t lose, not now that we’re finally here. If the prophecy says I’ll break it on my twenty eighth birthday, I’d feel better waiting for that.”

Reluctant, he nods his head. He’s never considered the fact that they could fail simply from being too early for the prophecy to come true, and with his papa possibly living somewhere in this very town, he realizes he doesn’t want to take any chances either. “I’m sorry. You’re right. We don’t have to leave, though, do we? As long as we don’t tell anyone who we are, they won’t recognize us. We could scope the place out and start planning against the Queen.”

“You want to stay? What will we do; rent a room at the BnB? I get the feeling that everyone knows everyone around here. We’ll be the talk of the town.”

August sighs, running a hand through his hair, a telltale sign that he’s scrambling for an idea. Emma peers towards the diner again, examining the supposed fairytale characters as he paces a short distance away. She’s turning back immediately when an unfamiliar voice speaks up.

“Hi there!”

When Emma whips around, they’re greeted by the timid looking man and the dalmatian they’d driven past earlier. He looks pleasant and friendly enough, if a bit outdated in terms of clothing choices. August stiffens and goes quiet, so Emma jumps in.

“Hi.” She offers a quick smile and a nod. “Nice evening, isn’t it?”

“That it is.” He glances at August, then back to Emma, his bafflement clear on his face. “I can’t remember the last time we’ve had strangers pass through! What brings you to Storybrooke?”

“Oh, we’re just looking for a place to stay the night. We’ve been driving quite a while and figured it was better to sleep in a hotel than the car. Is there a hotel around here?”

“Closest we’ve got is Granny’s Bed and Breakfast,” he offers somewhat apologetically, pointing to the building just past the diner. “It might be pretty different than what you’re used to - I assume you’re from the big city? - but it’s really quite lovely there.”

Emma’s about to babble some other form of pleasantry when August blurts out, “Jiminy?”

“I’m sorry?” the man says, blinking.

August hesitates, an odd look on his face. “Sorry. You, uh, looked familiar. I thought you were a friend of mine; Jiminy.”

The man chuckles. “Nope. I’m Archie. Archie Hopper. And this here is Pongo.”

“Pongo,” Emma repeats, lifting a brow, because _of course._

“Is there a Jiminy around here?” August inquires casually. “Or a Geppetto?”

“Like in _Pinocchio?”_ Archie laughs goodnaturedly. “Nope. No one in this town with names like that. Are you Italian?”

“Err, yeah. Well, Archie, thanks for the help. We should probably get going now,” August says, putting his arm around Emma’s shoulders and flashing that charming smile of his. Archie bids them goodnight before heading on his way, and Emma finds herself being led back to the Bug.

“What was that about?” she demands, confused.

“Archie _Hopper,”_ August scoffs. “That was Jiminy. I would recognize his voice anywhere. He’s clearly not a cricket anymore, though.”

“Okay,” Emma says slowly, unable to imagine Archie as a cricket. “So he doesn’t respond to Jiminy. What’s that mean? Are they different people here?”

“He doesn’t remember.” August shakes his head, frowning. “Maybe it’s part of the curse; they don’t remember who they are. It makes sense, I guess. When the Savior breaks the curse, everyone would get their memories back.”

“Oh, great,” Emma mutters, scowling. “Even more people counting on me to save them. What now, _Pinocchio?_ Are we going to make up a backstory to explain why we’re staying at the BnB for a while? I’m saying this now; pretending to be a couple is off the table. I’m so not up for that shit.”

“I have a better idea.”

He pulls up a tiny vial of blue liquid from within his shirt, the same vial the Blue fairy had given him when his father first convinced her to send him through the wardrobe with baby Emma. Of all the things he owned, this he protected with his life, and now he removes it from the chain around his neck and holds it out to Emma.

“The last bit of magic,” Emma says aloud, eyes widening at he drops it into her palm. Perhaps she’s never _truly_ believed that he has magic in a vial, but now that he wants to use it, the thought makes her nervous. “Are you sure we should use it?”

August nods. “The Blue fairy said I would know when it was the right time. Well, now feels like the right time. We need to be able to stay here without drawing suspicion to ourselves, and we need a way to spy on the Queen until the time comes for you to break the curse.”

“Okay, but…” Emma glances back down at the little vial of magic. “How is this bit of magic going to do that?”

August is already clambering back into the Bug and scrolling through the contacts list on his phone, a smirk plastered to his face, the same smirk he always got when he had an idea. “Get in, princess. We’re going shopping.”

 

It took a dozen phone calls and a lot of bribing, but it was worth it. No one would be answering miss Mills’ application to adopt, which meant no one would be visiting Storybrooke and getting in the way. The second half of the plan was a lot harder: Emma Swan was stubborn as a mule and apparently had zero trust in magic. August had to pull out all the stops, pouting and begging and pleading until she finally flipped him off, threw her car keys at him, and downed the vial like a shot glass. Luckily, the Blue fairy had been right when she’d said the magic would work by instinct, and thus Emma was able to pull off the one spell they needed her to do. A quick stop by a children’s clothing boutique right before it closed put the finishing touches on their plan, and then everything was in place.

The clock on the dash reads ten o’clock at night. August pulls the Bug up next to the curb, grinning to himself now that he’s finally driving Emma’s car. If she wasn’t unconscious in the backseat he would be getting an earful by now, but she’d apparently tired herself out after the excitement of actually doing _magic_ had worn off. He redials the number he’d called an hour earlier and waits patiently, though he doesn’t have to wait long. The Queen is apparently quite desperate for companionship.

“Mr. Booth?” the husky voice says in way of a greeting.

“Please, call me August. I thought you might like to know that we’ve arrived in Storybrooke.”

“Oh, of course! Did you find my house alright?”

“We’re right outside.”

There’s immediate shuffling on the line. August smirks as he climbs out of the car, shutting the door softly behind him. He makes it to the gate in time to see a gorgeous brunette hurrying down the walkway of the front lawn towards him. She’s in a pristine grey dress suit, her dark hair short and her makeup simple but perfect. In summary, she’s nothing like the Evil Queen he remembers from his childhood, and that actually serves to comfort him. Maybe twenty seven years in this world has made her complacent.

August ends the call and shoves his phone into his pocket as she does the same, reaching the gate and quickly pushing it open for him.

“August, hi, I’m Regina Mills,” she says, a little breathlessly, and it’s then that he notices pink in her cheeks and a hint of red in her eyes. Had she cried? Was the Queen even capable of crying? “Is she - is she here?”

“She is,” he confirms pleasantly, startled at how anxious she actually looks. He doesn’t give himself time to dwell on it. “As we discussed on the phone, I am required to stay in town for the next few weeks and to check in on her daily. It’s all a normal part of the process, I assure you, and as soon as I believe she has acclimated here, I can sign you off and finalize the paperwork.”

“Yes, of course, I understand. And then, after that - she’ll be mine - legally?”

“If you think she is the right fit for your family, yes.”

“I have no doubt,” Regina says, her dark eyes flitting immediately towards the car. “When I sent in the request forms, they told me-- I thought I would have to wait months. It’s been four days and now you’re _here._ ”

“It must be fate,” August jokes, and Regina is too distracted staring at the car to even react. He supposes now is a good time to get this part over with. “She’s pretty tuckered out from the journey. Would you like me to carry her inside for you?”

“I’d appreciate it,” she agrees, wringing her hands together. August nods and pops open the back door, bending over to reach in and retrieve Emma. When he straightens back up and nudges the door shut with his knee, he has a five year old little girl sleeping cradled in his arms, and he couldn’t have missed the sharp gasp coming from Regina if he’d tried.

 

To her credit, Regina isn’t sure what she’d been expecting. All August had told her on the phone was that they had a five year old girl in need of a new home immediately, and that he had just retrieved her from an agency nearby and was more than happy to come directly to her house if that was fine with her.

This little girl is the most precious thing she’s ever seen, wrapped up in a baby-blue dress and a thick white sweater on top. Golden blonde curls fall freely over a round, heart shaped face, her button nose twitches in her sleep, and her thin lips are curled into the softest of smiles as if she were having a pleasant dream. She has her fingers curled around the collar of August’s jacket, and he carries her with gentle care as Regina quickly leads the way into the house. They make it into the living room and August is just about to set her down on the couch when she awakens, immediately stiffening and tightening her grip on his jacket.

“Hello, princess,” he says warmly, smiling down at the little girl. She leans into him, eyes wide with what Regina assumes is fear. She reasons that this child is likely scared of being dropped off at yet another stranger’s home, so she crouches down next to August by the couch and gives the sweetest smile she can muster.

“Hi there, sweetheart,” Regina cooes, and she feels August glancing at her before he too turns his attention back on the nervous little girl.

“This is Regina, and you’re going to stay with her for a while, okay?”

The girl’s gaze shifts to Regina, and Regina just smiles wider at the sight of those big, beautiful green eyes.

“For how long?” the girl finally asks, sounding weary.

“Well, for a few weeks at first. If you like it here, and if Regina is willing--”

“You’d be welcome to stay here for as long as you like,” Regina says, already beaming. “I’m very happy to have you here.”

The little girl stares at her for a long moment, looking confused, then conflicted. After a long moment, she finally gives a timid little smile. “I’m Emma.”

“That’s a beautiful name, Emma.” Regina’s eyes crinkle with her genuine smile, then she looks to August. “I can’t thank you enough for bringing her here so soon, Mr. Booth. It _is_ quite late, though, and I’m sure she’s tired. Would it be alright if I tucked her in? I already have a child’s room prepared. Did you need to check out the house first, or--?”

“It’s quite alright. Your house is lovely and I trust that you have everything in order for her. I can do all the checks tomorrow if that’s agreeable.”

She nods, clearly eager to have a moment alone with the beautiful child - a child that could soon be very much _hers -_ so August gets down on a knee and gives the girl one more reassuring smile.

“I’m going to go now, okay, Emma? Regina will take good care of you tonight, and I’ll be back to visit tomorrow.”

Emma just nods and throws herself at him in a tight, anxious hug. Regina steps back to give them a moment, wondering how the girl will cope once this man whom she clearly trusts is gone, and hoping that she’ll come to trust Regina just as much one day.

Gently detaching himself from her, August bids them goodbye and heads back out into the night. Regina double checks that the front door is securely locked before dropping to a crouch in front of Emma, who had followed them into the foyer and now stands by the bottom of the staircase. Her green eyes are large and she worries her lower lip between her teeth.

 

“Are you tired, sweetheart?” Regina’s voice is oddly soothing, and Emma’s heart rate is going a mile a minute now that she’s alone with the Evil Queen. It doesn’t help that her body is now five years old and utterly defenseless.

 _If you can respond without saying too much, it’s probably the safer option,_ August had said when they’d first discussed how she’d behave as a child. She’s no actor, but she’s pretty sure she can pull this off, at least.

Emma nods, her head bobbing more emphatically than she meant to simply because she’s not used to having a head larger than her body. It’s going to take some getting used to, being in a child-sized body again.

Regina smiles, taking her dramatic head bob as a sign of her exhaustion, and opens her arms. “Well, I’ve got a room all ready for you. Can I carry you upstairs, Emma?”

Not wanting to anger the Evil Queen - Emma figures being an angelic little child will make her job easier - she gives another awkward little nod and a timid smile. The next thing she knows, she’s lifted up into a warm embrace and being carried up the staircase and down a hall. She makes sure to memorize whatever doors and halls she can see from her vantage point before Regina carefully sits her down on a soft bed in what she assumes is the “child’s bedroom.” The furniture is so sophisticated and tastefully designed, however, that it’s clear the Evil Queen has never raised a young child of her own. A real five year old Emma would have been perfectly happy with bright green walls and a firetruck bed.

“Let’s get you into something more comfy for bed, okay?”

 _God, this is awkward,_ Emma thinks to herself, but outwardly she’s all dimples and cooperation. Regina takes her little shoes off and sets them aside, then helps her out of her sweater and her blue dress. She considers Emma’s undergarments, then heads for her bedroom and returns a moment later with a soft, satiny silk shirt. What is likely an adult-sized silk tunic looks more like a sleeping gown on Emma, but at least it’s soft and warm.

“We’ll go buy you some more clothes that fit you tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Emma just offers up a shy little smile, ducking her head. August hadn’t told her how _charming_ the Evil Queen was. Despite her very intense eyes and expressions, this woman is startlingly beautiful, not to mention incredibly kind and warm towards her. It doesn’t help that Emma’s had very few motherly figures in her life (and none of them lasting for very long), so she’s feeling genuinely shy at this point, uncertain of how to feel as Regina lovingly fusses over her.

“Is everything alright, sweetheart?” Regina asks, noticing the odd look on Emma’s face. Emma just blinks at her, so frazzled that she’s not even sure what to say anymore. All the lines she’d had planned were out the window. She doesn’t know how to act like a five year old, she doesn’t know what to say, she doesn’t even know how she’s supposed to treat the Evil Queen. And August expects her to live here for half a year, undercover as a spy? If anything, being in a five-year-old body has apparently given her some child-like qualities, and in her uncertain state, she feels like crying in frustration right now.

And… yeah, no, that’s exactly what she does. She starts crying.

“Oh, no, baby girl,” Regina says, immediately alarmed when tears spill down the little blonde girl’s cheeks. “Please don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

She scoots closer and pulls Emma onto her lap, enveloping her in a warm hug that Emma instinctively leans into. The gesture only serves to make her cry harder, actually sobbing aloud now, shoulders shaking with each unsteady gasp for air. Regina rubs her back in a soothing motion, murmuring soft reassurances against her hair.

“Tell me what I can do to make it better,” Regina pleads softly, one hand stroking at her blonde curls. “Is it August? Do you miss him? He’ll visit you tomorrow, I promise.”

Emma’s head shakes and she swipes furiously at her tears, feeling ashamed for bursting out in tears. She’s known the Evil Queen for less than an hour and already she’s in her arms crying like a baby - nevermind the fact that she really is five years old right now. As Regina smooths out her blonde hair, she sniffles and comes up with the best excuse she can think of.

“Tired,” she says, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. Regina smiles with relief, glad that she’s finally using her words again.

“Of course you are. May I tuck you into bed?”

Emma nods, so Regina gently lifts her up and places her in the middle of the bed, tucking her in under the thick, fluffy blanket. The mattress is so soft that Emma feels like she’s sinking into a cloud. _Damn. What’s the threadcount in these sheets? August would be so jealous._

“Would you like a glass of water before you sleep?” Regina offers. Emma shakes her head, just eager to be alone again so that she can collect her thoughts. “Alright then. If you need anything at all, just call for me, okay? My bedroom is just at the end of the hall.”

Regina pauses, brushing a stray hair from Emma’s forehead and gently stroking her round cheeks. “I’m very happy to have you here, Emma,” she admits, her voice soft. Emma smiles a little, but she’s gone into silent mode again.

With a nod, Regina stands and turns off the lights, pausing at the door. She decides to leave it open a crack so that the room isn’t completely black, figuring that like any child, Emma might be afraid of the dark.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” she whispers, stepping away. The gentle, high-pitched response of “Night, Gina,” has the Queen smiling joyfully to herself as she returns to her bedroom. For the first time in over twenty-some years, she can’t wait to wake up in the morning to a house that isn’t empty.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews so far, guys! I live for reviews~ Honestly, I didn't expect such a positive response, since I wasn't sure how this concept would be received. It's been a tough but fun challenge to write Regina like this. Henry doesn't exist in this AU, so she has no prior experience with raising a child. I actually had to rewrite an entire chunk of this chapter because stern-and-responsible-mom!Regina (which is how I normally write her) would be too out of character. This is still early mayor Regina with no experience and a desperate desire for a child's love, so I'm really excited to get to explore that side of her.
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think, leave a review, and feel free to make suggestions if there are any mom!Gina and Emma scenes you'd like to see!
> 
> Oh, and a shout-out to monalisasfreedom over on Tumblr, for being a darling! This one's for you, dear! ;)

Emma lays still for a record breaking total of two minutes before sliding out of bed, tiptoeing to the chair next to the little vanity table where Regina had put her white sweater. The thing is so thick and fluffy that she has to search carefully for the pocket, undoing the tiny zipper and pulling out her cellphone. It’s been on silent mode since her transformation, and she's got a half dozen new text messages from August already.

_ [Contact me as soon as you can] _

_ [Please let me know you're okay] _

_ [Emma?] _

_ [And make sure you hide your phone somewhere safe] _

_ [Hey] _

_ [??] _

Emma glances at the door, then decides to climb back into bed and pull the covers over her head to hide her phone’s light. She texts him back right away, knowing he’s probably sitting in the car outside right now, anxiously waiting to hear that she's okay.

**[I’m fine. She put me to bed]**

_ [Oh thank god] _

**[Says the one who came up with this plan]**

_ [Sorry.] _

**[Are you sure she's the evil Queen? She's so... NICE??]**

_ [It’s her. Less makeup and less cleavage, but it’s her.] _

**[Less cleavage? Wtf? I feel cheated.]**

_ [Dude, you're five years old right now, don't make it weird] _

**[Yeah, about that. You're SURE this is her? Cuz I’m gonna kill you if I transformed into a five year old for no reason]**

_ [I’m sure. I’ll look for the Blue fairy tomorrow, so we know where to find her after the curse breaks. She can turn you back] _

**[She better.]**

_ [Gonna grab a room at the BnB. Get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow ok?] _

**[K. Night]**

_ [Love ya Ems] _

Emma gazes at the last message until her screen automatically turns off. August says it to her all the time, and she always responds with an awkward smile and by punching him on the shoulder. It’s their thing, and he’s fine with it because he knows she has an aversion to saying it herself. Emma just wishes she could smile at him and punch his shoulder right now in lieu of a response. She reawakens the screen to look at the wallpaper of her and August once more before powering the device off to conserve the battery.

Sliding out of bed, she creeps around the room, looking for a suitable place to hide the phone. Her choices are limited, so she crawls under the bed and tucks the device into the bedsheet where it wraps under the mattress. She figures Regina won't change the sheets right away so it’s a suitable hiding place for a few days at least.

Climbing back into bed, she pulls the blankets up to her chin and settles in for the night. She can still remember the familiar scratch of August’s stubble against her cheek when he’d hugged her goodbye, whispering into her ear,  _ “Be careful, Emma.” _

His warning echoes at the back of her mind until she finally passes out.

Morning comes too early and Emma has every intention of rolling over with a groan and sleeping in for another few hours… until the smell of apple scented linen reminds her that she's not in her apartment in New York.

Sitting up abruptly, she checks herself over, giving a sigh of relief when she's still child-sized. She’d been worried the spell would wear off during the night and the Queen would kill the adult-sized imposter in her house. She's safe for now, at least.

Sliding out of bed, she quickly strips off her borrowed shirt and changes back into the blue dress August had bought her the night before. Bastard had snapped a picture of her in it, and probably isn't going to let her live it down for the rest of her life. She wonders if she can convince Regina to buy her some pants as she leaves her temporary new bedroom.

The smell of coffee and hot food hits her as soon as she's in the hallway but August’s warning is still clear in her head, so she takes the chance to check out the second floor while she can, carefully poking her head into every room.

Everything is pretty mundane; a bathroom, another guest room, some sort of sitting room with bookshelves and a desk, and a chaise next to the window. At the end of the hall is the master bedroom, clearly Regina’s, impeccably neat with tasteful black and off-white decor. Even the bed is made, looking as if it were brand new.

_ I hope she doesn't expect me to make my own bed like that,  _ Emma thinks, wrinkling her nose as she leaves the room. The wide spiral staircase looks daunting now that she’s shrunk, and the new child-like instinct within her wishes Regina would carry her downstairs. Squashing the thought ( _ “get your shit together, Swan, you're a grown ass woman,” _ ) she grabs the railings of the banister and carefully makes her way down to the first floor. She had every intention to explore what she could of the main floor, but food has always been her weakness and she finds herself drawn towards the kitchen by smell alone. Her mouth is almost watering by the time she steps barefoot onto the warm tile.  _ Heated flooring? Seriously? _

“Gina?” she calls out hesitantly, in her lightest, cutest voice possible. It brings about the desired effect, because Regina immediately appears from the pantry with a glowing smile on her face, and Emma once again falters at how genuinely  _ happy  _ the woman looks. August had told her many horrendous stories about the Evil Queen, and she’s having a hard time imagining her and Regina as one in the same. This woman looks overjoyed to have a child in her life.

“Good morning, Emma,” Regina greets sweetly, placing a jug of maple syrup on the counter. “Are you hungry? I made breakfast. I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, so…”

She motions at the dining table in the next room, and Emma’s eyes widen comically at the sight. Scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, waffles, pancakes, fresh fruit. There’s a jug of orange juice thick with pulp, and a can of whipped cream next to a small carton of vanilla ice cream. It’s like Christmas morning, and Emma’s stomach chooses that moment to rumble like a starving beast. A warm laugh escapes the brunette.

“Come on, sweetheart. Help yourself to whatever you’d like.” When Emma hesitates, Regina leans down to grab her hand and gently lead her over to the table, easing her up onto a chair. It’s obvious she’s going to have difficulty reaching everything unless she stands up and leans over the table, so Regina asks her to point out what she’d like and helps fill her plate. Emma doesn’t realize that - like the rest of her body - her stomach has shrunk, so by the time they’re done, her plate is piled high with a bit of everything.

Regina, of course, also doesn’t realize that a five year old should not be eating that much food all at once, so she sits across from Emma with her own plate and simply basks in the moment, smiling into her cup of coffee as the little blonde digs in. The last time she’d cooked for a child was many years ago, when Owen and his father had found their way into town… She shakes the thought away when she notices big green eyes regarding her curiously.

“Is it good?” she asks, somewhat hesitantly. Emma’s lips stretch into a big smile as she nods, happily stuffing another square of syrup-and-ice-cream-drenched waffle into her mouth and looking like a little chipmunk in the process. Regina’s eyes sparkle with relief.

“I thought I could show you around town today, and pick you up some new clothes from the store. If you’re feeling up to it, maybe we can go for a walk in the park later too. It’s very nice out this time of year. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

Again, Emma bobs her head in agreement, keeping her mouth full as an excuse to not speak. Regina doesn’t seem to mind, propping her chin on her hands and beaming. Emma can't help but wonder how long it will be until the novelty of her presence ends. Will she be treated like a normal kid, or will the Evil Queen continue spoiling her rotten like she's the only child in the world? (Not that she's going to complain, but it would be nice to know where she stands.)

The smell of coffee is like a drug and Emma finds her eyes drawn to Regina’s mug, wondering if the woman will let her have any.

“Oh, you don't want this,” Regina says, laughing. “Here, let me pour you some orange juice.”

Emma resigns herself to a cup of OJ, deciding she’ll have to bribe August to sneak her some coffee later. The rest of breakfast is a rather peaceful ordeal, if not a little awkward for Emma because Regina just won't stop  _ smiling  _ at her. Emma stuffs herself and they still end up with a ton of extra food that gets moved into containers and stored in the fridge.

“I’m not used to cooking for two,” Regina admits as she puts things away, and Emma just sits quietly at the kitchen counter and smiles again in response. This house is huge and beautiful, but it also feels lonely. She wonders how in the world Regina has managed to live here for more than twenty years all alone.

They head out a little while later, after Regina retrieves Emma's sweater from upstairs and helps her put it back on, insisting that Maine can still be chilly even if it’s sunny out. The brunette already has a car seat prepared in her black Benz - Emma internally groans at the prospect of being strapped into a car seat - and pouts just a little as she's buckled in. Regina pauses to beam at her again, smoothing down her blonde hair, and Emma blushes at the attention.

They're rolling down Main Street at a leisurely pace with Regina pointing out buildings and landmarks like an eager tour guide when Emma spots Archie walking Pongo along the sidewalk. He glances up as they drive past, startled gaze landing on the child in the backseat, and Emma hopes he makes no connection between her and the older version of herself from yesterday. What if he runs into August again? Would he ask what happened to the blonde woman with him, and question where this new blonde child came from?

Regina ends up parking the Benz just down the block, where the street leads up to stores and shops along the docks. It’s a mixture of colorful boutiques and rustic buildings that give the town a timeless feel to it, and Emma has to admit, she wants to explore. She's already fumbling some of her straps off when Regina ducks into the backseat to help her out.

“Stay close now,” she says, holding onto Emma's hand as they start making their way down the sidewalk. There’s barely anyone around and it’s not like Emma's going to run out into (non-existent) traffic, but she says nothing and lets her hold her hand anyway, fascinated by how kind and protective Regina is. She still sees nothing of the “Evil Queen” August claims her to be; just a woman craving a child’s love.

“So how old are you, Emma?” Regina asks as they stroll along, in her attempt to coax the girl into conversation. Emma has barely said a word since arriving last night, and she wants nothing more than to hear more of her little voice. She can still remember the sound of Emma’s sweet, high pitched  _ “Gina?” _ from this morning. She’s never allowed anyone to shorten her name to ‘Gina’ before, but when Emma says it, she can’t help but smile. Maybe one day it will be ‘mommy.’

Wordlessly, Emma cranes her head up to look at her before simply holding up her free hand with all five fingers spread.

“Five?” Regina prompts. Emma just nods. Clearly she's going to have to ask questions that can't be answered with gestures. “When is your birthday?”

At that, Emma makes a face, nose scrunching and lips pursing together. She considers her answer, then she says, “October.”

“Which day in October, sweetheart?”

Again, a hesitant pause. “Second.” Then she gives another little smile. “What’s your birthday?”

“February first,” Regina replies, committing the child’s birthdate to memory. It’s less than six months away, which means she’s got plenty of time to plan the perfect birthday party. Those always entail lots of children, clowns, and cake - at least that’s what television has taught her. Surely Emma can make some friends by then, if she enrolls her in kindergarten. A clown shouldn’t be hard to find, she can bribe Sydney into a clown costume if need be. And cake is easy; baking has been her favourite pastime for the past decade.

A children’s boutique is their first stop, with Regina leading a hesitant Emma inside and coaxing her towards the girls’ section. They avoid the frilly dresses right off the bat - Regina is no more fond of the princess apparel than Emma is, if the child’s exhale of relief is any indication - and Regina begins picking out some stylish clothing while Emma stands back, simply watching.

“What do you like?” Regina asks her, pulling out a designer shirt and some fitted pants. “Is there any type of clothing you prefer?”

Emma’s little shoulders lift in a shrug, her hands clasped behind her back as she rolls on the heels of her feet. Green eyes seem to regard the stylish children’s clothes with a weary unfamiliarity.

“Something wrong?” Regina asks, dropping to a knee. She’d hoped Emma would be excited to shop  _ with  _ her, not to stand and watch. Wasn’t that something mothers and daughters did? But Emma’s lips purse together and she shakes her head, eyes widening a little as if afraid to make a fuss. She reaches out and awkwardly begins flipping through the clothes on the rack, though it’s obvious she has no idea what she’s looking for. Regina reaches out to gently grasp her wrist, watching as the child’s head whips in her direction, startled.

“Emma, sweetheart, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Again, a head bob and a quick, reassuring smile.

“Is there something on your mind?”

An adamant shake of the head.

“I can tell something’s wrong. Can you please talk to me?”

She blinks, eyebrows creasing together. After a moment, she drops her gaze and mumbles something. Regina tilts her head.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know how to shop.”

Regina pauses, confused. Of all the things a five year old might tell her, that’s not one she expects. How does one respond to that? “Well… that’s okay, honey. I’m here to help. We’re just picking out some clothes that you feel comfortable in, alright? What do you like to wear? Do you want another dress like the one you’re wearing?”

Emma grimaces and shakes her head.

“Okay. How about pants and a nice shirt?”

A tentative nod.

“Wonderful. Come on, sweetheart, let’s go see what there is, okay? You just let me know if you see something you like. I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

She leads Emma towards the pants section, perusing the shelves of options. Emma’s head turns towards the jeans, so Regina indulges her and picks up a pair that looks to be around her size. “Would you like to try these on?”

Emma nods, so she picks out a few more styles and slings them over her arm. They repeat this timid little back-and-forth over in the shirts and sweaters section, and Regina grabs a couple of trendy little jackets too before they take their items to the dressing room. Emma is extremely cooperative and looks to be in much better spirits once she’s in a pair of jeans and a nice teal shirt, so Regina pulls the tags and tells the salesperson that she’ll pay for them at the register.

They’re at the counter when Emma spots it; a red leather jacket.

Small, made of a much thinner, softer material, and clearly cut for a child, but a red leather jacket nonetheless. She reaches out and touches the smooth fabric, instantly longing for her own - which is currently stashed in the Bug and likely ten sizes too large for her at the moment anyway.

Regina is suddenly at her side, pulling the jacket from its hanger and holding it out for Emma. “Come on, give it a try,” she offers. Emma slips it on and Regina leans back to give her an appraising smile. “Well, don’t you look charming! Is red your favourite color?”

Emma nods, so Regina says to the woman at the counter, “We’ll take the jacket too.”

The tag is pulled off, so Emma stands fiddling with the hem of her new miniature leather jacket while Regina pays and collects her bagged items. They bring everything back to the car before continuing their perusal of the dockside stores, hand in hand.

Having August in her life made her childhood bearable, but neither of them had ever had stable parental figures, and certainly none that took them shopping. Her new wardrobe may only fit her current five year old body but it’s still more clothing than she’s ever owned all at once, and Emma finds herself feeling just a little bit overwhelmed by the thought. She’d heard the saleswoman; Regina had spent a good few hundred dollars just now. The last time Emma remembered asking one of her guardians for a new sweater, she’d been tossed a worn hand-me-down, along with a haughty  _ “Do you think I’m made of money?”  _ She’d never asked a future guardian for clothing ever again.

“Gina?” Emma calls out softly as they walk along the sidewalk.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you for buying me clothes,” Emma says, ducking her head a little and immediately averting her eyes. Other than what August used to scrounge up for her, no one had ever bought new clothing for her, so she’s never actually had to thank anyone for their charity or generosity. It’s an awkward feeling.

“You’re welcome, Emma. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Emma just keeps her eyes down, her cheeks warm. No one’s ever said that to her before. August is her everything, of course, but he’s her brother, her fellow survivor, her exception. He’s always been the only exception, in a world that was nothing but cruel and uncaring to them. 

Fingers tighten around hers and Regina tugs them to a stop, crouching down so that she’s Emma’s height.

“Can I ask you a question?” She asks, brown eyes cautiously inquisitive. Emma nods. “Where you… How many other homes were you in, before August brought you to me?”

The question has Emma’s mind reeling. How many? She can’t remember. She and August bounced around so many times she’d lost count. She thinks hard and tries to remember what life was like when she had been five. August had been twelve at the time.

“Lots. I don’t remember,” she finally admits, brows creasing.

“Didn’t they ever take you shopping for clothes? Or toys?”

If she were herself right now, Emma would laugh. Her five year old form doesn’t seem to possess quite as much sarcasm or bitter jadedness, however, so she just gives a despondent shake of her head.

“Did they ever… did they ever hit you?”

That’s a dangerous question. August used to tell her,  _ Don’t say anything. Let me do all the talking.  _ Outing a foster parent for abuse wasn’t usually a good choice; the system didn’t always get you out fast enough to avoid one last beating. They’d learned that the hard way - August, especially. Emma didn’t actually get struck until she was about nine or ten - she was lucky in that none of her temporary guardians were crazy enough to hit a five year old - but the harsh truth is clear in her big green eyes and she can’t hide it from Regina even if she tried. Under the other woman’s scrutinizing stare, Emma actually feels tears well up in her eyes.

“Oh, baby girl,” Regina breathes out, looking horrified. She pulls Emma into a hug, wrapping her up in her arms, one hand automatically moving to stroke her hair down her back in a soothing gesture. “I promise you, Emma, I’ll never hit you. You’re safe with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

Maybe this kind of speech from a parental figure is many years too late, but the comfort and the safety that the brunette offers makes Emma cry harder and burrow herself into Regina’s embrace. Hearing those words and being held like this is something Emma didn’t think she’d ever experience in her lifetime, so she just clings to Regina and soaks in the comfort, forgetting all about Evil Queens and fairy tale curses.

 

They’d explored the docks, bought some books and toys at the giftshop, and then gotten ice cream on their way back down the main street. Regina was doing all she could to make Emma smile and Emma was certainly in much better spirits now. She was still shy and timid, but there was a new warmth in her green eyes that had Regina’s heart in her throat. She wasn’t sure what it was - trust? Affection? Perhaps even the beginnings of love? Whatever it was, it was good, and it gave Regina encouragement. She was on the right path.

Emma has just finished her chocolate ice cream cone, so Regina figures it’s a good time to head back to the car and drive home. They’re a block away when a figure hobbles around the corner and into their path, immediately causing a spark of irritation and something darker within the brunette. She schools her features as he nears.

“Good afternoon, Madame Mayor,” he greets, slowing to interact with them. Normally he pays her no mind, but he is clearly intrigued as to why Regina has a child with her.

“Mr. Gold,” Regina replies briskly, her hand tightening on Emma’s now that they have no choice but to stop. Gold is standing in the middle of the sidewalk and clearly has no intention of letting them pass.

“Who’s this, now?” He questions, eyes falling on Emma. To her credit, Emma immediately hides behind Regina’s legs, peering out cautiously while still holding onto Regina’s hand. At least Regina doesn't have to teach her about stranger danger; she can clearly spot a creeper a mile away.

“Surely you know,” Regina says, lifting a brow.

“Surely I don't,” he snarks. “I wouldn't ask if I already knew, dearie.”

“Well I asked you to help me find a child, didn't I? Didn't August speak with you?”

“Who? No. I was still waiting to hear back from a social worker. How did you procure a child so quickly?”  _ And without my help _ , he thinks. His beady eyes narrow, gaze flickering to the little blonde girl again. Regina shifts subtly, shielding Emma from view now that she knows Gold had no hand in her arrival here. Had the system decided to contact her directly instead of going through Gold?

“No matter. She's here now, so your assistance is no longer required.”

“I see. Well, congratulations, dearie. Motherhood suits you.” He smiles, though it’s a borderline sneer, and he leans on his cane to see Emma from behind Regina’s legs. “What’s your name, little one?”

Regina holds her tongue, just barely. Gold is just Gold here, not Rumplestiltskin. He doesn't have his memories and is no threat, so she has no real reason to treat him as such. To her amusement, Emma refuses to answer, simply clinging to Regina’s leg a little more firmly.

“I don't believe she likes you,” Regina notes, a smirk in her voice.

“Like mother, like daughter?” He snickers. “I wonder if she’ll take after you? Nature versus nurture is always a fascinating thing to watch… Would you say you take after  _ your  _ mother, Madame Mayor?”

Regina stiffens, her jaw clenching. How the man manages to piss her off even without his memories is a wonder. At her side she can feel Emma shifting to look up at her, but Regina keeps her head tilted in Gold’s direction, not wanting the girl to see her anger.

Her creeper radar is going off the charts, and if she were in her adult body, Emma would be standing between the two right now, shielding Regina from this man whom she clearly didn't like. In a child’s body, however, she takes cover behind Regina’s legs, one hand firmly clutching the woman's hand. It doesn't take a genius to know that there's bad blood between them, but then Gold says something that has Regina tensing up, and Emma’s had enough.

“Gina!” she says, tugging on her hand. Regina immediately snaps out of whatever internal struggle she's going through and glances down at her, brown eyes concerned. “Gina, my tummy hurts.”

Which isn't much of a lie, because stuffing her face during breakfast that morning had been a poor idea. Still, she clutches at her stomach with her free hand for dramatic effect, which has Regina immediately stooping down to check on her like a worried mother hen.

“Is it a tummy ache? Come on, sweetheart, I’ll take you home.” She carefully scoops Emma up into her arms, casting a hard glare in Gold’s direction as she moves around him. They’re two steps past and that much closer to the car when he calls out to them.

“You never told me, dearie.”

Regina turns halfway, making sure Emma’s resting on the shoulder opposite of Gold. “Told you what?”

“Her name.” A challenge glints in his eyes. She has no legitimate reason to hide the child’s name from him - not from  _ Gold, _ anyway.

“It’s Emma,” she relents, stiffly. An odd look passes over his face, but it lasts for all of a second, and then he smooths it over with an amused smile.

“Emma. What a lovely name. You two have yourselves a wonderful day.”

Regina turns away and makes a beeline for the car. Something about his parting words is rubbing her the wrong way and she doesn’t want to think too hard on that momentary shadow that had passed over his face. She buckles Emma in and jumps into the driver’s seat with a sigh of relief, just eager to get them home again, when she notices the little grin lighting up Emma’s face in the rearview mirror. Regina twists around.

“Emma?”

“You don’t like him, do you?” Emma’s got this knowing smile that dimples her cheeks, and it’s the cutest thing Regina has ever seen. The brunette laughs.

“No, I don’t. Do you?”

Emma shakes her head adamantly. “He’s weird.”

“Yes he is,” Regina muses, crinkling her nose at her. There’s something oddly entertaining about trash-talking Rumplestiltskin with a child. “Are you feeling a little better? Should I pick up something for your tummy from the drugstore?”

At that, Emma’s ears turn red. “My tummy doesn’t  _ really  _ hurt…”

“Oh? But I thought…” Regina quirks a brow, realization dawning on her a moment later when Emma ducks her head and chews on her lower lip. Smart  _ and  _ clever. Regina feels a swell of pride in her chest - which may be presumptuous because she’s barely known the girl for a day - but pride nonetheless. “You sneaky little angel.”

Emma just grins, her big green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Did I do good?”

Regina laughs out loud, reaching over to tweak the girl’s button nose. “You did good, honey.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pssst, hey RowArk, I kinda love you. Thanks for inspiring me to try my very first little!Emma fic~ ♥ Now I expect to see you posting that other fic you mentioned to me! ;)

“Red, huh? Bold choice.” August grins, his elbows on the counter as he nurses a cup of coffee. Red - or rather, simply  _ Ruby  _ in this world - lounges against the opposite side of the counter in a scandalous excuse for a waitress uniform.

“What can I say? It pops.” She gives a feral smile, which immediately turns into a roll of her eyes when Granny glares at her from the kitchen doorway and shoos her back to work. August just chuckles, returning his attention to his phone once the brunette is gone. Emma hasn’t texted him today yet, but he’d spied them from afar while he was exploring the town earlier and she looked to be doing fine. The Evil Queen had even bought her an ice cream cone. Who would have thought? Snow White’s going to have a field day when she gets her memories back.

His musings are interrupted when the bell over the door chimes. Curious as to who else he might recognize from the Enchanted Forest, he turns and glances over - and falters at the sight of an older gentleman walking with a cane and a slight limp. Something about his presence has August’s brain itching, but he can’t put a name to the face and simply shrugs and goes back to sipping at his coffee.

“Excuse me,” a leathery voice says, and August again lifts his head to find that the man has approached him with somewhat narrowed eyes.

“Afternoon,” August greets with a polite nod of his head, trying to keep a low profile. When the man intentionally holds his gaze, he continues, “There something I can help you with?”

“August, right?” A finger is wagged at him, as if he clearly looks like an  _ August. _

“Uh, yeah. August Booth. Do I know you?”

“No, no. I’m Mr. Gold.” He offers his hand with a twist of a smile and August shakes it. “The Mayor mentioned you by name. I thought I’d come meet you myself.”

“Ah, yes. The Mayor.” August flashes a smile again, wary of saying more, uncertain of what it is this Mr. Gold wants. Again, his mind is trying to connect dots as to who this man might be, but  the answer hasn’t come to him yet.

“Yes. She mentioned you were the one who brought the child to her.”

August just keeps his smile plastered to his face, inclining his head in a confused way. His instincts tell him to keep his mouth shut and he complies.

“How did you arrive here, may I ask?”

“Uh... By driving?” August replies, though he gets the feeling that any answer is going to be the wrong one. “I don’t understand what you’re asking, Mr. Gold.”

“That hardly matters. I think the more pressing question is this, Mr. Booth...” He drops his voice into a near whisper, leaning close so that no one else can hear him. “Why is the prophesied Savior a mere child?”

August freezes, his eyes wide. That this man is the only other person in town thus far - aside from the Queen herself - who seems to have his memories intact is cause for concern. The possible threat to Emma’s cover is what has him immediately switching into protective mode.

“Who are you?” he demands in a low hiss, body tensing on the chance that he needs to get physical. Gold just smirks and leans back, sitting himself on the bar stool next to August’s.

“Relax, Mr. Booth. Believe it or not, I actually want the Savior to break the curse.”

That admission does nothing to comfort August, though he relaxes his clenched fists and manages to look casual again, taking another gulp of his now lukewarm coffee. “And how is it that you’re the only person I’ve met so far who...” He pauses as Ruby walks by to retrieve a coffee pot. “-who still has their memories?”

Gold chuckles. He hadn’t actually had his memories until about an hour ago, when he’d heard the child’s name.  _ Emma.  _ Her name had been his failsafe, and his memories had flooded back so abruptly that it was a miracle he hadn’t faltered in front of Regina. It wouldn’t do to tip the Queen off so early in the game. She’d have a conniption if she knew Rumplestiltskin was back.

“That matters not, dearie. What matters now is that the Queen doesn’t catch on to your little game and kill the Savior before she can break the curse. Which begs the question,  _ again _ : why is she a child? She was supposed to arrive on her twenty eighth birthday.”

August frowns, hesitant to tell him anything. The man knows more than he’s letting on. “Tell me who you are.”

“Tell me who  _ you  _ are,” Gold fires back, smirking.

After a brooding pause, August finally replies, quietly, “Pinocchio.”

“Pinocchio,” Gold repeats, sounding mildly disappointed with the underwhelming answer. “Well. I suppose it makes sense they’d send you too. The old fool was probably afraid you’d turn back into a puppet the moment the curse hit.”

August bristles. “You know my father?”

“I should hope so. I see him every morning on my daily stroll. But,” he adds, seeing the glimmer of hope in August’s eyes, “he does not have his memories, so I suggest you give your father a wide berth. Wouldn’t do to confuse him with your presence, now would it?”

Visibly deflating, August finishes the dregs of his coffee with a grimace.

“Fear not, your father is healthy and happy,” Gold offers after a moment, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at August’s sigh of relief. “Now, answer my question. Why is the Savior a child?”

“It’s just a spell,” August admits, keeping his voice low and keeping an eye out for Ruby as she moves about the diner. “Her twenty eighth birthday isn’t for another six months. When we finally found this place, we figured we’d need an excuse to stick around without sticking out. This way Emma can keep an eye on the Queen, spy on her, find her weaknesses, until the day comes for her to break the curse.”

“And how did you perform such a spell? This is the land without magic.”

“We brought a little bit of magic with us. The Blue fairy said we simply had to think of what we wanted and it would do the rest.” August shrugs. “That was the last of it. We planned to have the Blue fairy return her back to her original body once the curse broke.”

“Well... I must say,” Gold finally admits with a grin, “fulfilling Regina’s desires for a child? Brilliant. Dangerous, of course, but brilliant. She’s so desperate for love, she won’t suspect a thing. I should commend you, Mr. Booth. Of all the things I’ve ever inflicted upon Her Majesty, your cruelty may just be the worst. She will be utterly heartbroken.”

August pulls back, expression taut and disbelieving, yet also struck with a sense of... guilt? Shame? He has never been called  _ cruel _ . “She’s the Evil Queen, I doubt her heart is capable of breaking,” he mutters. Gold just smiles wider, knowing that he doesn’t fully believe that either.

“We shall see, won’t we?”

“You know more than you’re letting on,” August notes, frowning.

“That I do.”

“Are you going to tell me who you are?”

“I already told you. I’m Mr. Gold.” He smiles, flashing a toothy grin. “Now that my curiosity’s been sated...” He stands, tapping his cane briefly on the floor as he turns towards the door. “You have yourself a nice day, Mr. Booth. Do try to keep your friend alive until she can break the curse.”

August grits his teeth, watching Gold limp his way out of the diner. Ruby sidles up next to him with one hand perched on her hip.

“A real creep, isn’t he?” she snorts, leaning over to refill his coffee mug. August gives a weary smile, though he’s no longer in the mood to flirt with Red. (He’s always had a bit of a crush on the older werewolf girl back in the Enchanted Forest. It’s kind of awesome that he’s now  _ older  _ than she is.) “Can I get you anything else, August?” She purrs his name and he chuckles.

“I’m alright, thanks, Ruby.”

She shrugs and goes back to work, leaving August to fiddle with his phone again. He’s about to open up a game of  _ Angry Birds  _ when a text message arrives from the Evil Queen herself.

_ [Good afternoon Mr. Booth. Would this evening be a good time for your visitation? Say 7PM?] _

He quickly taps back his response:

**[Yes, that works for me. I’ll see you then.]**

 

They have a late lunch and settle in for a lazy afternoon movie. Regina makes grilled cheese as per Emma’s shy request, along with a bowl of fresh diced fruit and some sweet iced tea. Emma ends up cross-legged on the floor by Regina’s feet, a toothpick in hand as she munches from the bowl of diced fruit on the low coffee table. Regina notices her carefully stabbing up the little squares of cantaloupe and papaya, but avoiding the squares of apple.

“Don't you like apples, sweetheart?” she finally asks halfway into the movie, having lost interest in the adventures of  _ Timon and Pumba  _ half an hour ago. Emma’s not all that thrilled about having to watch a kids movie either, but she pretends to enjoy it.

“Not really,” Emma says, shrugging her little shoulders. It’s not far from the truth; August had told her the poisoned apple story pretty early on, so they'd both had an aversion to the red fruit all their lives. The only time she’d tasted an apple was when she was nine and living at a crappy foster home where a bowl of rotting apples was her only food source. She still remembered slicing open her finger when she'd been cutting out the rotten parts with a knife. The thought makes her instinctively run her thumb over the little scar on her index finger, soothing down the sudden tingling sensation.

“Maybe you’d like to try these ones?” Regina coaxes with a hopeful expression. “They're from my apple tree in the backyard. I grow them myself - they're very sweet.”

_ Are they poisoned? _ Emma thinks wryly, but then her stomach twists unpleasantly at the thought, because why would Regina poison her? She's been nothing but kind and caring all day. Wordlessly, Emma impales an apple cube and eats it, inwardly pleased when Regina’s smile widens. The woman is impossibly pretty when she smiles like that, brown eyes sparkling and paired with thin, barely visible laugh lines at the corners, as if the skin on her face isn't used to making genuine smiles in the first place.

“What do you think?”

“It’s sweet,” Emma says, surprised. It is indeed sweet and juicy with a nice crunch to it, tickling her taste buds. “I like it.”

To punctuate her point, she skewers up more apples and munches on them. Regina watches the rest of the movie with a little smile on her red lips.

Emma is finally left to her own devices when Regina offers to let her relax in her new bedroom for a while. The brunette brings all her new clothes and toys up, staying to help her unpack and fill up her new dresser, then promises that she’ll just be down in her study if she's needed.

Once Regina's footsteps descend the staircase, Emma retrieves her cellphone, powers it up, and checks her texts. She’ll have to sneak a charger into her room at some point, but for now she's got a seventy percent battery left.

There's one message from August.

_ [How're you holding up?] _

**[The Queen fed me an apple.]**

There's no response for a minute. Emma taps out a second message,

**[I’m alive in case you're wondering]**

_ [Asshole] _

She chuckles, moving to sit with her back against the bedroom door as a precaution. No need to get caught by the Queen.

**[What’ve you been up to?]**

_ [Checking out the town. Saw you playing house with the Queen and getting ice cream at the docks. If I didn't know she was a psycho, I’d say you two looked cute.] _

Emma rolls her eyes a little, deciding against making a comment on the ‘psycho’ bit.

**[What can I say, I’m a cute AF kid. Did you find anyone important yet?]**

_ [No sign of Blue, unfortunately.] _

**[And your dad?]**

_ [Well, I heard there's a town carpenter. Thought I might check into that later.] _

Emma chews her lower lip. 

**[And my parents?]**

She waits a whole minute, frowning at her phone and fingering the screen to keep it lit. Eventually his responding text arrives.

_ [Nothing yet. I’m sorry] _

**[S’okay. I should probably put my phone away, she’ll be back soon. See you later?]**

_ [Yeah. Visitation at 7PM apparently] _

**[k. See you then]**

She powers off the cell and hides it away, then occupies herself for a while by reading some of the books Regina had bought her. They’re mostly picture books with a few simple sentences under each image, but it’s a better alternative to playing with the dolls. She hates dolls, but she’d smiled pleasantly when Regina offered them up at the store.

Emma makes it through her entire children’s book collection in record time and spends a good ten minutes organizing them in the little bookshelf on one side of her room. Then she spends another ten minutes organizing all her toys on the shelf above them. Then five more minutes lining up her new collection of stuffed animals on the bed.

As she’s placing the stegosaurus at the foot of her bed, an idea comes to mind. Emma squeezes it a little, taking stock of how firm the pearly, shiny material is, and the fact that it’s got a tiny zipper at its belly. She unzips it, sticking her fingers into the firmly packed stuffing, then decidedly grabs her cellphone and shoves it into the plushie. She has to pull out a few wads of stuffing so that it fits easily, but it’s a clever idea and she’s quite proud of herself for thinking of it. The material can’t be thrown in the wash - and she’s certainly not going to get it dirty - so it’s a much safer hiding place than under the bedsheets.

Placing the stegosaurus next to her pillow, she sighs and looks around the room. There’s nothing left to do, and she is most certainly not interested in playing with the toys. Making up her mind, Emma exits the bedroom and makes her way downstairs.

She finds Regina in her study as promised and lingers in the doorway, peering in at the woman with wonder. Regina sits at a large mahogany desk, head bent down and glasses perched on her nose as she pours over a stack of paperwork. The desk is a bit of a mess, papers and folders everywhere, a laptop sitting open on the corner and playing soft music. There’s a low coffee table and two couches in front of an unlit fireplace on the other side of the cozy room, and sunlight streams in through the open shutters hanging over the windows, bathing the study in warm, golden light.

Not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere, Emma pads softly into the room on socked feet, tiptoeing next to the big chair in which Regina sits. One hand touches Regina’s elbow and the brunette immediately jumps, startled, her glasses bouncing askew.

“Oh! Emma. You startled me.” Regina pulls her glasses off to Emma’s dismay. They’re the thick-rimmed kind, sleek black and rounded in design, and Emma thinks they make the Queen look like a nerd. An adorable, dorky nerd. “Do you need something, sweetheart?”

Emma shrugs a shoulder, debating against saying that she’s bored. If she were a real five year old, she should have been occupied for hours with all her new toys. Playing up the I’m-curious-and-eager-to-know-more-about-you card instead, she asks, “What’re you doing?”

“Just getting some work done.” Regina motions at the paperwork with a wry smile. “Do you know what my job in this town is?”

Emma shakes her head.

“I’m the Mayor. It means it’s my job to make sure the town is running properly and efficiently, and that I’m in charge of certain responsibilities.”

Emma blinks at the paperwork; then, before she can think it through, says, “Like a Queen?”

Regina blinks right back at her, and then she laughs, lips splitting into a wide smile. “Yes, kind of like a Queen.” She leans back into her chair to stretch out her spine, eyes cutting to the clock hanging over the fireplace. “Hm. I could use a break. How about we go for that walk and then have dinner at Granny’s Diner? August will be coming over at seven to see you.”

“Okay.” Emma smiles sweetly, receiving a brush of fingers to her cheek before she’s sent up to retrieve her jacket.

She and Regina end up walking all around the park, the pond, and over the little wooden bridge there before taking the path that leads back to the main street. Granny’s turns out to be the same homey diner she and August had looked into the night before, the one in which the waitress is apparently Red Riding Hood. As it’s nearing dinner time, the Diner is pretty busy and Emma gladly holds onto Regina’s hand as they enter, a bell chiming above their heads to announce their entrance.

All eyes turn to the door, a weary kind of respect (or fear, depending on who you were looking at) in their expressions, which quickly becomes curiosity when they notice the little blonde child clutching to the imposing Mayor’s hand. Emma shrinks down, hating to be the center of attention, but Regina simply ignores everyone and leads Emma to the counter where Eugenia Lucas currently mans the till.

“Widow Lucas,” the Mayor greets politely.

“Madame Mayor,” comes the equally polite response. Granny leans over the counter, looking down her nose and spectacles at the little head of blonde hair standing at Regina’s side. “Who’s this?”

“This is Emma,” she says, and with Emma’s nod of agreement, she lifts the child up onto a bar stool. “She's living with me from now on.” Regina smiles and crinkles her nose at Emma, who smiles and crinkles her nose right back.

“Really! That adoption paperwork went through fast. Good for you, Madame Mayor. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma,” Granny says, grinning at the child. “You two here for dinner?” At Regina’s nod, she looks around for a booth and grunts. “Table just cleared, I’ll clean it up for you. In the meantime; Ruby, get this little angel a milkshake, will ya?”

Granny toddles off, quickly replaced by the leggy brunette who immediately beams at Emma. “Aww, look at you! What a cutie. Congrats, Madame Mayor,” she says, schooling her smile into something more reserved and polite when speaking to Regina. Regina just flashes a quick smile and a nod of her head.

“What flavour do you like, sweetie? Chocolate? Strawberry?”

“Chocolate,” Emma replies with a grin, pleased as the brunette immediately gets to work whipping up a chocolate milkshake for her. With all the sweets and treats she’s been getting today, she’s probably going to end up with a cavity. Hopefully the Evil Queen has good dental coverage.

“One super duper chocolate milkshake!” Ruby announces, setting the tall, frothy concoction in front of Emma. She grins as the blonde’s big green eyes light up in delight. “Care for a milkshake too, Mayor Mills?”

“No, thank you.”

Regina settles her hands in her lap, content to watch Emma slurp the milkshake up through a candy-striped straw, when the blonde surprises her by tilting the straw in her direction.

“Wanna try?” Emma asks in a sweet tone. Regina beams and takes a small sip, happy to be included even though she's not a big fan of sugary sweet dessert drinks.

“Mm. Yummy. Thank you, sweetheart.”

Emma tries to ignore the fact that there's now a crimson red lipstick imprint on her straw.

“Table’s ready for you,” Granny tells them, setting a kid’s menu down once Regina and Emma have relocated into the booth. She automatically brings over a cup of coffee for the Mayor and Regina nods in appreciation; despite their Enchanted Forest alter egos, she and this world’s Eugenia Lucas get along just fine.

Emma peruses the kid’s menu, glancing up to find Regina simply sipping at her coffee as if her mind’s already made up. Granted, the woman’s lived here for more than twenty seven years, surely she's got the menu memorized by now.

“What’ll it be today, ladies?” Ruby inquires, sidling up to them with her hands on her hips.

“A grilled chicken salad with chickpeas for me,” Regina rattles off, then smiles in Emma's direction. “Do you know what you want, Emma?”

“Chickenstrips please, thank you,” Emma chirps, handing back the menu. Ruby titters.

“Well mannered, too! Your daughter’s precious, Mayor Mills,” she grins, sauntering off with their orders before even noticing the look on Regina’s face. Emma sees it, and with the subtly of a child - or rather, lack thereof - she stares. It’s shock and joy and disbelief all melded together in the way her brows knit and her dark eyes widen and her red lips part ever so slightly, like she had never expected anyone to actually accept the fact that she's adopting a child. A  _ daughter _ .

“Gina?” she calls out softly, baffled. Regina’s eyes snap back into focus, albeit suspiciously damp, and she gives a wavering smile.

“Yes?”

Emma figures she can get away with any amount of bluntness in her current five-year-old form. “Why do you look sad?”

“Oh, I’m not sad, honey. I’m very happy.” She smiles again, this time a wide, genuine smile that coaxes Emma into smiling too. “I’d really like to make you happy too, Emma. I want you to be happy here.”

“I like it here,” Emma supplies, avoiding the deeper insinuations. That seems good enough for Regina, who relieves her by moving onto safer topics. She asks her about her favourite animals ( _ panda, _ Emma blurts out, though she's not sure why because she doesn't really have a favourite animal,) what kinds of sports or activities she enjoys (soccer, because she likes to run,) and what kinds of movies she’d like to watch (Disney, says Emma, because it just might help her weasel some answers out of Regina if she’s forced to watch them with her.)

Their food arrives and Emma’s in the process of drowning a chickenstrip in sweet and sour sauce when a warm and familiar voice speaks up.

“Emma, Ms. Mills. Fancy seeing you here.” August flashes his charming smile, having just walked in through the entrance and towards the back hall, towards which the Diner connects to Granny’s BnB rooms on the other side of the block. Regina reciprocates his smile with a warm one of her own; she generally isn’t friendly with most people, it’s not in her nature, but August is the one who brought her Emma, after all.

“August!” Emma nearly shouts with all the delight and excitement of a five year old, and August laughs and leans over to ruffle her blonde hair.

“Hey there, princess,” he says, voice deepening with brotherly affection. It’s a tone only Emma recognizes, and she just grins wider. ‘Princess’ has been their inside joke for as long as she can remember. She  _ is  _ a princess, after all, considering her parents are the rightful rulers of the Enchanted Forest.

“Mr. Booth,” Regina begins, watching the way the child seems to glow in the man’s presence. She wonders if it’s because he may have been the one to remove her from her abusive foster homes in the past. It would be natural for Emma to see him as a source of safety and comfort, and that in turn makes him someone Regina will want on her side. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“I would love to, thanks.” August grins and places his order with Ruby at the counter, then returns and slides into the booth next to Emma. “How has your day been so far?”

“We went shopping and explored the town,” Regina supplies when she notices Emma has already shoved a chickenstrip into her mouth. The blonde nods, chewing furiously and swallowing before jumping in.

“Gina bought me ice cream,” she tells him, beaming. August raises a brow at the chocolate milkshake next to her plate of chickenstrips, but opts not to say anything about that. Emma is technically a grown ass woman and he’s sure as hell not going to be the one to teach the Evil Queen how to raise a child.

“Did you have fun?” August inquires; Emma nods cheerfully, tearing into another chickenstrip as Regina picks delicately at her salad. His burger arrives a minute later and they spend the next half hour mostly chatting back and forth with Emma - Regina is eager to get to know the little girl more, after all, and August plays along, offering little ice-breaker questions to Emma as if she is indeed a mere child. Regina insists on paying the bill once they’re done, and they agree to head back to 108 Mifflin Street together since it’s nearing their agreed upon visitation time.

“August,” Emma says as they’re walking together down the sidewalk, and he looks down to find her holding up her arms imploringly.

“You want a ride?” he asks, laughing. He can’t remember the last time he’s carried Emma on his shoulders - maybe once or twice when he’d been a teenager and she’d still been small and light enough for him to bear - so he gladly stoops down and lets her hop on.

For her part, Emma  _ is  _ getting tired of walking. Besides, the view from astride August’s shoulders is pretty awesome. She may as well enjoy it now, because she doubts he’ll be so willing to carry her once she’s back to five foot six and a hundred and forty pounds of muscle.

Regina gets a pot of coffee going once they’re in the mansion before taking August on a tour of the house. He has no idea what he’s doing, of course, but pretends to assess every room and occasionally asks questions regarding safety and suitability for a young child. His contact from Boston had already mailed over some fake paperwork for the adoption of one  _ Emma Swan  _ (along with more bogus forms to ‘legally change her name’ to Emma Mills) and he promises to bring them over in a couple of weeks. There isn’t a real reason to wait that long but he wants to make this all seem as legit as possible, which means pretending to jump through hoops.

“Have you given any thought to her education yet?” August asks as they settle down at the kitchen counter for coffee. Emma had grabbed some toys from her bedroom a moment ago and now sits on the tiled floor, pretending to play with them while she eavesdrops.

“Not really,” Regina admits. “I didn’t want to overwhelm her.”

“It would help to give her a stable structure, actually,” August offers. “It helps foster children feel grounded to have a schedule to follow; to give life a sense of normalcy. I would recommend getting her enrolled in kindergarten as soon as possible.”

Regina nods along, eyes wide as she absorbs this information. “Of course. I can have my assistant look into that first thing tomorrow morning. We have a good school here in Storybrooke.”

“Great. What is your working situation, if you don’t mind my asking? Tomorrow is Monday, after all; I assume you have to go back to work. She’s too young to be left alone. Are you considering a babysitter?”

“I thought I might take her with me,” Regina admits, now sounding somewhat unsure of herself. “My office in town hall is quite spacious, I thought she might like to see where I work and spend some time there. Should I look for a babysitter instead?”

“Eventually. But I think it would be nice for her to spend some time in your office, if your job allows.”

At that, Regina grins. “I’m the Mayor; I could keep a panda in my office if I wanted to.”

A snicker sounds from the floor and both adults glance down to see Emma grinning.

“Here for a day and there’s already inside jokes that I don’t know about?” August teases, looking up to find the Queen beaming. It unnerves him just a little, to see her so unabashedly happy. Surely it’s just because she’s bored. Bored and lonely. It doesn’t make her a good person. Any villain is capable of being lonely and desiring company, after all.

“Would you mind if I speak with Emma alone for a few minutes?” At Regina’s somewhat surprised expression, he adds, “It’s a safety thing, for her to be able to tell me how she’s feeling without the foster parent in the room. I’m sure you understand; some of her previous guardians were...” His voice fades off, a meaningful look in his eyes. Regina immediately catches on to his meaning and - though she wants to reassure him that she would never harm Emma - she nods and stands.

“I’ll be in my study, just down the hall and to the left,” she offers. She gives Emma one last look before seeing herself out of the kitchen. August casually strolls towards the hall, peering out in time to see Regina disappear into her study and shut the door. When he turns back, Emma is scowling at him.

“Kindergarten? Really?” she grumps. “You think you’re hilarious, don’t you? Asshole.”

“Language, little lady,” he scolds, grinning as he sits down cross-legged on the floor next to her. She’s no longer pretending to play with her toys, just crossing her arms and huffing in annoyance. In her five year old body, however, she looks more cute than she does angry.

“As much as I’d  _ love _ to send you back to kindergarten for shits and giggles,” he smirks, lowering his voice. “I have a good reason. There’s a teacher who works at the school. I think she actually teaches fifth grade, but it’s in the same building, at least.”

“And this teacher is...” Emma trails off, her stomach already fluttering in anticipation of what he’s going to say. The thought makes her chest ache, and she doesn’t realize she’s been holding her breath until August nods and she exhales in a loud gust.

“Snow White,” he whispers. “Your mother.”

They both sit in silence for a long minute, Emma attempting to absorb the fact that she’s finally,  _ finally  _ going to see her mother for the first time, and August watching her with warmth and concern. If not for the little wrinkle of concentration between her brows, he’d be worried that she might pass out.

“She doesn’t remember who she is,” Emma finally says, her high voice a soft whisper. August nods. “She won’t even remember that she has a daughter.” Again, August nods. “What am I supposed to say to her?”

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” August murmurs. “What’s important is that we found her, and that she’s okay. Now we know where she is and we can make sure she stays safe until you can break the curse.”

“But... but I can talk to her?”

“You can’t tell her the truth right now, but you can meet her, if you’d like. She’s... she’s very good with children. I’m sure she’ll love you immediately.”

“But she won’t know I’m her daughter,” Emma says again, expression falling. “She’ll think I’m Regina’s daughter.”

“Only for a little while, Emma.” August reaches over to squeeze her hand, grasping it gently in his own much larger one. “You’ll be reunited with them soon, as a real family. You just gotta hang in there until then. Six more months, that’s all.”

Big green eyes glaze over with tears, and Emma pulls back her hand so that she can swipe the wetness away with a soft sniff. “Six more months. Yeah. Okay.” She sighs, dropping her hands back into her lap and slouching her back.

“There’s another thing,” August says after a moment, leaning back on his hands with a frown. “There’s this man in town who has his memories about the Enchanted Forest. He knows about you, and wants you to break the curse.”

Emma stiffens up, eyes wide. “Oh. Is that... Is that a good thing? Who is he?”

“No idea. Just goes by the name of Mr. Gold.”

“Gold,” Emma repeats, scowling. “I met him. A real creeper. He knows who I am?”

“Apparently. Since he wants you to break the curse, he’s not likely a danger to you, at least not for now... but keep an eye out for him anyway, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem.” After another pause, her lower lip juts out in a pout. “I’m tired, August.”

“I bet you are.” He chuckles. “It’s been a long day, and you’re physically five years old. You’re gonna get tired easier - and now you actually have an excuse to take afternoon naps. Oh, and while we’re on the subject, maybe lay off the sweets? I don’t want to know what the Queen will do if you get sick and throw up on her.”

Emma scrunches up her face. “Gee, thanks for that visual. You done playing fake social worker for today?”

August replies with an affirmative grunt, clambering back to his feet. “Yup. I’ve got more searching to do, and you look like you’re ready for bedtime. I’ll go fetch the Queen.”

Emma yawns, abandoning her toys on the kitchen floor and leaning up against the hallway wall while August heads to the study. He returns a moment later with Regina, making his way to the door and shrugging his coat back on.

“So everything is fine so far?” Regina questions, hand on the doorknob.

“Yes. I think this may finally be the one for her,” August says, flashing another disarming smile that has Regina looking hopeful. “I’ll keep in touch and let you know when the rest of the paperwork arrives.”

“Thank you, Mr. Booth.”

“Please, I insist, call me August.” He offers his hand and Regina shakes it.

“Call me Regina, then. Have a goodnight, August. Walk safely.”

August tips his head and steps over the threshold as Regina pulls the front door open for him. He turns around to wave a goodbye to Emma, and then he’s gone.

“It’s been quite a long day, hasn’t it?” Regina says as she returns to where Emma leans heavily on the wall. The blonde just nods, stifling another yawn. “Let’s get you a quick bath and then into bed. Come on, sweetheart.”

Emma allows herself to be led by the hand upstairs, not really realizing that Regina’s going to  _ bathe  _ her until she’s standing next to a tub of steamy warm water and the brunette is asking if she needs help undressing.

_ Oh. _

“Emma?” Regina prompts, perched on top of the closed toilet seat and giving her an expectant look. Emma awkwardly strips down, reminding herself that she’s in a child’s body and this isn’t weird at all. She doubts Regina will leave her alone in here, anyway, so she may as well get it over with.

To her amusement, the brunette is equally as awkward, carefully helping her into the tub and asking multiple times if the temperature is okay. She’s slow and careful with shampooing her hair and looks relieved when Emma automatically grabs the washcloth to scrub at her own skin. The entire ordeal isn’t as terrible as Emma feared it would be and soon enough she’s watching the soapy water swirl down the drain and getting wrapped up in a big fluffy towel.

“There, nice and clean,” Regina murmurs, talking aloud as she towel-dries Emma’s blonde hair and gently pats her down. The bathroom is warm with condensation and Emma’s eyes are already drooping, sleepy from the warmth, so Regina quickens her pace and gets the child into a pair of warm pajamas soon after. With her teeth brushed and her hair mostly dry, Emma shuffles back into her bedroom and clambers into bed, vaguely aware of Regina’s steady presence next to her the entire way.

“Do you need anything else?” Regina asks, sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging the fluffy sheets up under Emma’s chin. Emma gives a sleepy smile and shakes her head, already feeling sleep claiming her as she relaxes into the soft mattress. A pause goes by and Regina absently smooths out the blanket over Emma’s legs. “Did you have fun today?”

“Uh huh,” Emma responds. In her drowsy state, she reaches down to gently clasp Regina’s hand, missing the look on the brunette’s face. Regina’s lips press together in a smile and she gives the little fingers a squeeze.

“Sweet dreams, Emma.”

“Night, Gina,” comes the mumbled reply. Bright green eyes flutter shut and Emma’s already out like a light, lips parted with the softest of snores. Regina hesitates, then leans over to press a soft kiss to the blonde’s forehead before quietly slipping from the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter; hope you guys enjoy! And please keep those reviews coming! I love hearing your feedback. Keep updated on my progress (and other Swan Queen artwork) by following me on Tumblr at Niki-Frost! ;)

“It’s only for four hours, and I’ll be there to pick you up right outside the main doors as soon as you’re done, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve packed your favourites for lunch, and I put in extra snacks in case you want to share, I thought it might help you make friends--”

“Gina.”

“And there’s also an extra sweater, some gloves, and a toque in your bag in case you get cold, but  _ don’t  _ share those, heavens knows the other children might have germs, or  _ lice--” _

_ “Gina.”  _ Emma smacks her palms against the tabletop, stopping the brunette’s frantic rushing around the kitchen. Startled brown eyes meet green ones and in the next moment, Regina deflates just a little bit.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m a little anxious.”

_ A little? More like freaking the hell out,  _ Emma thinks, amused. She tries to distract the woman with a child-like request instead. “Can I have more juice please?”

“Of course.” Regina refills her pink plastic cup with cold apple juice, then finally sits back down across from Emma at the dining table. She’s hardly touched her own plate of breakfast, having spent the entire morning fretting about Emma’s first day of kindergarten.

It’s been a week and Emma’s hardly found out much, other than the fact that Regina can be a very attentive (and occasionally overbearing) mother hen. They’ve spent nearly every waking hour together: Emma doodles mindlessly on paper whenever they’re at Regina’s office, helps with little tasks when Regina cooks, and gets to pick cartoons or movies that Regina always watches with her. She’s laid off of the Disney classics for now, not wanting to delve in too soon and draw suspicion, and actually quite enjoyed watching  _ Tangled, Finding Nemo,  _ and  _ Despicable Me. _ Regina rolled her eyes every time the  _ minions  _ were on screen but Emma would burst out laughing and it would get the brunette smiling with amusement.

She has to admit she enjoys the attention, and guiltily she feels herself growing rather fond of Regina’s efforts, so much so that she didn’t have the heart to snoop around the mayor’s office yesterday when Regina had stepped out to speak with her secretary. There has to be an easier way to poke around without the brunette lurking too close for comfort, but she’s yet to discover how.

Clearing her plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, Emma washes it down with another mouthful of juice and then politely declares, “I’m done. Thank you Gina.”

Regina beams, standing to clear off the table. Emma’s been nothing but sweet and polite thus far and it’s made life a walk in the park for both of them. That, and Regina is putty in her hands whenever she says “please.” 

Carefully climbing off her chair, Emma goes ahead and gathers up her things for school. Regina bought her a backpack designed to look like a panda bear, and now she pauses and examines it with amusement before slinging it over her shoulder. She really shouldn’t be so pleased about owning such a childish thing, but considering her entire childhood of ratty hand-me-downs and unpleasant - sometimes abusive - foster parents, she can’t help it. It still boggles her mind at how Regina so willingly and happily buys her things that she doesn’t  _ really  _ need. Like that giant panda-themed bean-bag chair that now occupies a corner of her bedroom. She’s fallen asleep in that more often recently than in her own bed, though she always awakens tucked into bed, no doubt Regina’s doing.

“Both shoulders,” Regina says when Emma walks past the kitchen doorway, and the blonde readjusts her bag with a secret roll of her eyes. She looks over her collection of new footwear on the shoe rack - goddamn, Regina is spoiling her - before deciding on the cowboy boots, making sure to tuck in her jeans. She’s going to be the most stylish five year old ever.

“Ready to go?” Regina asks, appearing behind her and slipping her feet into fashionable black heels. Emma nods, looking forward to seeing August. He’d spoken to Regina about being there for her first day of school, making up some bullshit about helping to ease her into a new environment, and the brunette had just nodded along and agreed to everything because of the way Emma had lit up with a smile.

She’s in her car seat and they’re cruising through town towards the school in no time at all. The drive takes all of ten minutes but in that time, it finally,  _ fully  _ dawns on Emma that she’s about to meet her mother for the first time, so when Regina opens the car door to help her out, she’s faced with a teary eyed blonde.

“Oh, honey,” she says, ducking in to scoop Emma out of her seat and into her arms. Emma’s always been a scrawny shrimp as a child so Regina has very little trouble carrying her around. “Please don’t cry. There’s nothing to be nervous about. You don’t have to go today, if you don’t want to.”

But of course she wants to, though she sure as hell can’t tell Regina why she’s getting all emotional now. She just clings to Regina’s neck in a tight hug and lets the woman rock her comfortingly for a moment until August arrives, having been waiting just outside the school doors for them. He peers politely into the back seat and gives a warm smile.

“Is someone nervous about their first day in kindergarten?”

“She was so calm earlier,” Regina says, giving him a somewhat panicked look. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all. This is perfectly normal.” He beckons for her, so Regina carefully climbs back out of the car with Emma now in her arms. “Emma, you have to let go of Regina now. You don’t want to be late for your first day, do you?”

Emma has to resist the temptation to flip him off for using that babying voice with her. Instead, she sniffles and gives Regina one more squeeze before releasing her grip. The physical gestures of comfort are becoming oddly instinctive, to the point where August actually pointed out that she was very affectionate with the Evil Queen during one of their confidential chats a few days ago. Emma had just scoffed and said it kept Regina wrapped around her little finger, though her stomach twisted uncomfortably at what was most definitely a lie. She could never tell her brother, but she truly liked the comfort and safety Regina’s embraces provided. The woman may be many things, but her clear love and adoration for the child in her care is genuine. Emma believes it. Or perhaps she just wants to believe it. Surely the Queen can’t be this good of an actor. None of her old foster mothers were ever this genuine.

As soon as her feet touch ground, she turns to give August a greeting hug. Regina retrieves her backpack from the back seat and hands it over.

“Her teacher has my number, right?” Regina questions. She knows the school has her contact info, but she’s not going to be placated unless the kindergarten teacher has her number on speed dial. August gives a reassuring smile.

“I’ll make sure of it. I promise you, everything will be fine.” Tucking his chin down, he grins at the blonde clinging to his leg. “Ready to go, Emma?”

Emma nods and releases his pant leg, eyes wide and lower lip pinched under her teeth in a nervous bite. August helps settle her backpack onto her shoulders again.

“Say bye to Regina, okay?”

It’s quite literally a goodbye for four hours, but she’s heard that phrase before and it strikes a note of panic in her chest. August immediately realizes his mistake -  _ damn it, I should know better than anyone, why did I fucking say that? -  _ and tries to settle a reassuring hand atop her head.

“It’s just for four hours, Emma.”

She knows the feeling is irrational, so she pushes it down with a sharp intake of breath and lifts shiny eyes towards Regina, who immediately squats down in front of her with a worried look.

“Bye, Gina,” Emma manages, her voice wobbly. She leans in, hoping for one more hug before they go, but Regina surprises her by kissing her gently on the cheek. She’s never done it before, not while Emma is awake and aware of it, and Emma just sinks into her embrace for a moment before scurrying away with August.

She pauses by the main doors and glances back just once to see Regina waving at her from the pickup zone, and then August nudges her through the doors and into elementary school.

“That was stupid of me, I’m sorry,” he says as they make their way slowly down the hall.

“S’okay,” she mutters, unable to stop the pout on her lips. Her eyes catch sight of the little signs hanging over each door, telling them which classes they’re walking past, and she realizes he’s taking her in the opposite direction of kindergarten.

“Thought I’d introduce you to your mom first,” he offers, hesitant, and she just squeezes his hand, still too worked up to say much more. They pause just outside of Ms. Blanchard’s class and August drops to a knee, giving her a worried look. “Hey, what’s going on with you? You haven’t been this emotional in a long time.”

“I don’t know,” Emma cries, frustrated, tears immediately spilling over her cheeks as her little shoulders shake with a gasping sob. She balls up her fists and swipes at her eyes, the picture of a distraught child, and August has no idea what to do. “I want Gina!”

The declaration takes them both by surprise; August leans back and Emma claps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

“Em--?”

“I don’t know why I said that.”

They both stare at each other, equal parts shock and concern. August takes in the frazzled state Emma is in and pushes a hand through his hair, letting loose a shaky breath.

“Shit. Maybe the spell has a side effect?”

“Oh, that’s just  _ great _ .” Emma snivels noisily, trying to dry her face with her sleeves. “I’m acting like a clingy baby and it’s all your fault.”

“Hey, hey, we’ll figure it out. You’re just… Maybe it just makes you act more like a five year old too? Look, if you get worse, we’ll head for the town line, maybe the magic will wear off if we step out--”

“Can I help you?”

Emma and August both snap their heads around at the soft voice, eyes wide when none other than Snow White blinks down at them. Emma doesn’t need August to tell her that this is her mother. Some part of her knows, some part of her just  _ recognizes  _ her, and the child-like urge to burst into tears once again overcomes her.

August is the first to come to his senses, quickly jumping up to his feet. “Hi! Sorry. Miss Blanchard, right?”

“Yes?” She gives a baffled smile, gaze softening with sympathy when she notices the distressed child next to August. “Are you lost, or…?”

“Emma here is new to Storybrooke - it’s her first day, actually, so I thought I’d introduce her to all the teachers she’d be seeing around the school.”

“Oh! Really? We haven’t had a new student in… Huh.” She crouches down, hands folded atop her bent knees, and gives Emma an enthusiastic smile that the blonde can’t help but return. “Hello, Emma! It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m Mary Margaret Blanchard, and I teach fourth grade.”

“Hi,” Emma manages, lower lip trembling.

“What grade are you in?”

“K-Kindergarten…”

“She’s very nervous,” August supplies.

“Oh, it’s okay! There’s nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart,” says Mary Margaret, reaching out to pull Emma into a reassuring hug that Emma sinks into. A hand strokes her blonde hair, smoothing it down. “Your kindergarten teacher Miss Potts is really really nice, I promise.”

August smiles wryly as Emma buries her face into Mary Margaret’s shoulder, arms clinging just a little tighter around the brunette’s neck. Mary Margaret just rubs at her back patiently, adept at handling young children.

Of all the ways she’d dreamt of meeting her mother for the first time, this wasn’t even on the list. In a child’s body, in a fake town, unrecognizable and a complete stranger. Still, Emma clings to her, feeling the warmth and affection in her embrace, wondering if this was what it might have felt like if she had had the chance to be a real five year old on Snow White’s lap. If she’d been raised by her parents, a little girl in a castle, a princess in a faraway land.

She presses her eyes against her mother’s shoulder, the woolen sweater absorbing her tears, and choking back a sob she manages to whisper, “Mom.”

The word is muffled but Mary Margaret hears it and gives August an inquiring glance.

“Who is her mother?” she asks.

“Oh, ah-- The mayor is currently in the process of adopting her.”

“The Mayor?” Dark brows shoot up into a crop of short hair as Mary Margaret leans back, hands still softly grasping Emma but no longer hugging her. “Oh. That’s-- that’s very unexpected.” Then, feeling August’s eyes on her, she corrects herself, “I mean, that’s wonderful! I never knew she wanted a child. That’s wonderful.”

She turns back to Emma as the blonde swipes at her face again, feeling a pang of sympathy and affection for this beautiful little girl she’d only just met.

“I have to go teach my class now, Emma,” she says, genuine regret in her tone, “but it was very nice to meet you. You can come visit me anytime you’d like, okay?”

“Okay,” Emma says, smiling through her tears. She watches Mary Margaret disappear into her classroom, and then August scoops her up and takes her towards kindergarten.

“Thank you,” she whispers, pressing her cheek against his. He just squeezes her tightly, knowing there’s nothing left for them to say.

Kindergarten is bearable, just barely. Emma keeps to herself, eating lunch in silence and  handing out the extra snacks Regina had given her to keep the other kids occupied. It’s tough dumbing herself down to pretend she isn’t capable of reading and writing like an adult, but she manages it by copying the other kids and writing with her non-dominant hand so that her handwriting is atrocious. By the time it’s over, she’s eager to see Regina again and return to the comfort of their big house on Mifflin Street. Miss Potts - a portly and very pleasant woman - herds them out onto the blacktop and watches over them at the playground while waiting for parents to pick up their children.

Emma sits on a bench with her backpack next to her, swinging her feet as she awaits the familiar black mercedes. As it’s their first day, Miss Potts had decided to end class early to let everyone out for some fresh air, which is the only reason Regina isn’t already here and waiting for her. (Regina is punctual to the dot, she knows.)

“Hi, Emma!” Mary Margaret’s sweet, gentle voice rouses the blonde from staring down at an ant as it marches across the blacktop. The mousy brunette perches on the end of the bench and gives a soft smile.

“Hi,” Emma says, warming immediately. It’s an effort not to call her ‘mom’ - she’s waited almost twenty eight years to find her, after all - but after a pause, she adds, “Miss Blanchard.”

“How was your first day? Did you have fun?”

_ No.  _ “Yes.” Emma bobs her head and smiles again. The lie is easier if she focuses solely on the fact that she’s met her mother, not that she had to sit through four hours of kindergarten. Mary Margaret glances up to where the rest of the class plays on the playground, running about and squealing, before returning to the quiet blonde.

“You don’t want to play with your classmates?”

“I’m tired.” The excuse always works on Regina, and it seems to work just as easily on her mother, who nods her head in understanding.

“Of course you are. It’s been a long day, huh? Are you waiting for your mom now?”

Emma glances at her, brow twitching. “I’m waiting for Gina.”

Mary Margaret nods slowly, still trying to wrap her head around the idea of the mayor adopting a young child. The woman has always intimidated her, but she has always seemed lonely, too. Perhaps this little girl would be a good influence in her life. “You know, when the adoption goes through, she’ll be your mother legally. I think it would make her very happy if you called her mom.”

Emma scrunches her face for a moment before smoothing out her expression. Some part of her is hurt that her own mother is trying to convince her to call someone else ‘mom,’ but she reminds herself that this woman has fake memories right now. This woman isn’t her mother, not yet. “I like ‘Gina,’” she says instead, kicking her legs again.

“Maybe someday--”

“Emma!”

They both look up in time to see Regina power-walking towards them, her heels clicking against the blacktop and a harried expression on her face. Her anxious look of concern for picking Emma up safely is immediately replaced by annoyance when she notices who sits beside her.

“Miss Blanchard,” she greets, her tone sharp. “I don’t recall you teaching kindergarten.”

“Oh, no,” Mary Margaret says quickly, already holding up her hands in a placating gesture. “I still teach fourth grade. I was just asking Emma how her day was.”

Regina’s gaze lands on Emma, softening with affection when big green eyes crinkle up at her. Mary Margaret sees it and falters, having never seen anything less than haughty dislike on the mayor’s face. Haughty dislike is exactly what she gets, however, when those dark eyes return to her.

“How do you know Emma?”

“I met her this morning before classes began.”

Emma watches this exchange with her breath held. She doesn’t expect any fireballs or sword throwing, of course, but she’s concerned nonetheless, remembering all the stories August had told her about how the Evil Queen tried to kill Snow White on multiple occasions. This is… bizarrely civil, if a little uncomfortable.

“I see,” Regina says curtly, her tone dismissive before she turns back to Emma, no longer paying Mary Margaret any attention. “Come along, sweetheart. Let’s go home now.”

Emma slides off the bench, hefting her backpack onto her shoulders and grasping onto Regina’s hand as she’s led away.

“Bye, Miss Blanchard,” she calls over her shoulder, craning her head around to see her mother once more.

“Bye, Emma,” Mary Margaret calls after her with a little wave and a smile.

As soon as they’re in the car, Regina inquires all about her first day; if she had fun, if she had enough snacks, if the other kids were nice to her, if she’s made any friends. Emma bullshits her way through most of it, only snapping back to attention when she realizes they’re going in the direction of town hall. She’d wanted to go home, but supposes Regina must have stepped out of work during her lunch hour to pick her up. Another day at the office then.

“Gina,” she begins as they pull up into town hall and the brunette helps her out of her car seat. “How come you don’t like Miss Blanchard?”

A dark look passes over Regina’s face and for a split second, Emma thinks she’s overstepped and made a mistake that just might get her killed. The second drags on and Regina averts her eyes, and Emma feels her heart thud just a little too hard in her little chest. She’s afraid and also guilty for feeling afraid, because part of her is so sure Regina would never hurt her. It’s a baseless assumption because she should be more than aware that even the gentlest of touches can turn into a violent strike - some of her foster parents have taught her that lesson - yet some foolish part of her still believes in Regina’s affection.

Emma stands frozen on the sidewalk, Regina equally frozen next to her, the car door half open in her grip. After an uncomfortable pause, Regina shuts the door and carries Emma’s backpack for her, a tight smile on her face.

“I’m not friends with Miss Blanchard, that’s all. I’m sure she’s a very nice teacher.”

She motions for Emma to follow and makes her way into the building, giving a curt nod to her secretary Andrea before closing them into her office. Her motions are gentle as she hands the bag back, so Emma goes to settle down at her usual spot (she’s claimed the loveseat and the coffee table there in front of the little fireplace.) Regina’s already returning to her work at the desk when she turns back around.

“Why aren’t you friends?” she asks innocently, puttering over and seriously testing her limits now. She can see Regina doesn’t like the direction this conversation is going but the brunette is making a clear effort to rein it in for her sake.

“Sometimes people just don’t get along,” is the vague answer she receives. The gleam of bitter hurt and betrayal in her dark eyes, however, is brutally telling. Emma leans up against the chair, suddenly feeling bad, and nuzzles her cheek against Regina’s shoulder.

“We get along,” she offers. The childish reassurance coaxes a little chuckle out of Regina.

“Yes we do,” she agrees, playfully crinkling her nose at her.

At about two in the afternoon an emergency call comes in through Andrea and Regina has no choice but to go deal with matters out-of-office. She hesitates in bringing Emma with her but also has no babysitter available yet, so Emma takes the initiative and smiles her sweetest, most behaving smile (which isn’t even necessary because she’s been the perfect angel all afternoon, sitting quietly and doodling on paper with crayons.)

“I can stay here with Andy?” she suggests, and Regina blinks for a moment before registering that the blonde is referring to her secretary. The younger woman has been enamoured with Emma the moment she arrived and must have encouraged her to call her by a nickname. Regina thinks it’s unprofessional, to be honest, but lets it go.

“Andrea,” she says curtly, and the younger brunette jumps to attention, head poking in through the office door.

“Yes, Mayor Mills?”

“Watch over Emma while I deal with this. I shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”

“No problem, ma’am.”

Andrea gives Emma a playful wink and the blonde reciprocates.

“I’ll be back soon, sweetheart,” Regina promises as she turns to Emma. “Then I’ll finish up here and we can go for dinner afterwards. What would you like to eat?”

“Can we go to Granny’s?”

“Of course.”

With a small smile and a nod, Regina sweeps out of the building, leaving Andrea and Emma grinning at each other. “How was your first day at school, kiddo?”

“Good,” Emma declares, flashing a smile. “But I’m tired now. Can I go take a nap on the couch?”

“Sure,” Andrea agrees. The mayor’s expensive loveseat used to be off limits to just about everyone, but she knows the Mayor would allow this child to do just about anything. “I’ll be right out here if you need anything, kay?”

“Kay. Thanks Andy!” Emma beams at her once more before stepping into the office and gently shutting the door behind her. The secretary taken care of, she scurries over to the window and peers outside in time to see the familiar black Mercedes Benz rolling out of the parking lot. She has about an hour, then. Ignoring the bundle of anxiety in her belly from doing something she instinctively knows is  _ wrong,  _ she begins her search of the Evil Queen’s office.

Surprisingly, none of the drawers are locked. Probably because no one in this town has the guts to go snooping in the mayor’s territory. She thumbs through stacks of files and folders, careful to leave things as she’s found them. In the metal cabinet she finds a massive keyring with what looks like a dozen dark brass keys, each one emblazoned with a skull.

“What in the actual fuck?” she mutters under her breath, staring at the daunting thing as if it might bite her. She wishes she had her cellphone with her so she could text August or at least take a photo, but remembering this bit of information for later will have to do. She closes the drawer, then continues on her search. There’s an ornate box on Regina’s desk, strangely empty, and one too many horse statues tastefully decorating the room. With no more obvious items of interest, she goes back to the many files in the drawers and skims through the tabs to see if anything pops out at her. There’s one folder in particular that documents a mausoleum in the cemetery, and one extra thick personnel file on someone named Graham Humbert. She commits both to memory so she can bring it up with August later.

With no desire to get caught snooping, she soon sprawls out on the loveseat for a nap to await Regina’s return. She’s gently shaken awake another hour and a half later to an apologetic looking Regina.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she says, rubbing Emma’s back as the blonde sits up and scrubs the sleepiness from her eyes. “You must be hungry by now. Let’s go for dinner, okay?”

“Mmkay,” Emma agrees, yawning and stretching out her skinny limbs like a gangly kitten before packing up her crayons and the picture of the yellow Bug she’d been drawing. (She can’t draw for shit anyway so the picture is believably terrible.) Regina carries her backpack for her and they bid Andrea goodbye before driving the short distance to Granny’s, deciding against walking this time when Emma’s stomach gives an unruly grumble of hunger.

August isn’t hanging around in the diner this time to her dismay, but food is more important right now anyway. She bounds towards the bar to greet Ruby as the brunette leans over the counter to grin wolfishly at her.

“There’s my favourite little blonde!” Ruby crows, which has Granny toddling out of the kitchen to beam down at her as well. The Lucas women are weak to the child and Regina entertains an odd thought as she sits down at what is quickly becoming her and Emma’s booth. Ruby promptly takes their orders and leaves them with their drinks when Regina voices her idea out loud.

“How would you feel about spending time with Ruby or Granny once in a while?” Emma tilts her head to one side, so she continues, “I can’t always bring you to work with me, so someone has to look after you when I’m not at home.”

“I like Ruby and Granny,” Emma says with an agreeable nod. She wants to suggest August as an occasional babysitter too, but realizes his time is better spent snooping around the town.

“Excellent. I’ll ask them then.” Regina smiles at her, then slides out of the booth to go speak with the Lucas women at the counter. The other patrons of the diner glance up curiously, everyone having noted throughout the past week how different the Mayor has been acting lately whenever the child is around. “Ruby, Eugenia, a moment please.”

“What’s up, Madam Mayor?” Ruby cocks a hip and lifts her eyebrow, far less weary around the brunette after seeing her shockingly gentle behavior with Emma. Apparently all it took was a pup underfoot to make the intimidating Mayor amicable. She and Granny had a bit of a chuckle over that the other night when they’d noticed the very generous tip Regina left after they’d made Emma very happy with a surprise sundae.

“I’m in need of an occasional babysitter for Emma. She is quite partial to you two, it seems, and I would pay you well for your time, of course…” Despite her business-like tone, there is a hint of hesitation in her expression, feeling as if she’s asking for help instead of demanding things like she usually does. In a way she supposes she  _ is  _ asking for help. This is a request in Emma’s favour and she certainly wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving Emma in someone’s care if they’re simply forced (or blackmailed) into doing it.

To her immediate relief, a smile spreads across Ruby’s lips.

“I’d love to babysit her! We can do it, right, Granny? If the diner gets busy, Emma could always hang out here with us.”

“I’ve no objections,” Granny nods, a fond little twinkle in her eyes that - once reserved only for her granddaughter - now extends to the Mayor’s adorable adopted child. She gives a matronly harrumph. “We’ll get some meat back on those bones of hers, too. Girl’s too skinny for her age.”

At that, Regina’s brow creases. “Is she?” she says uncertainly, glancing back at Emma. The blonde is small and thin, and Regina doesn’t have much trouble lifting her up into her arms, but she’d just assumed most five-year olds were that size and weight.

Granny shakes her head and lowers her voice a little. “She doesn’t look too bad now, especially not after all the food we’ve been putting in her this past week, but she’s definitely been malnourished in the past. She was in the foster system before you got her, wasn’t she?”

“Yes…” Regina trails off, brows furrowing as she remembers the day Emma hinted at an abusive past. She should have figured that any person capable of striking a child could easily starve them too. Vaguely her stomach rumbles, reminding her of a time when Cora would deny her food whenever she deemed her too ‘chubby.’ She wouldn’t let that happen to Emma, not ever again. “Well, she’s here now, and she’ll never go hungry again,” Regina says, not without bite.

Granny chuckles at that. “You’re a natural mama bear, I’ll give you that, Madam Mayor. You just call us whenever you need that child babysat.”

Ruby nods her wholehearted agreement, which leaves Regina murmuring a somewhat bemused “thank you” before returning to the booth. Big green eyes are regarding her with far too much wisdom for her age, though Regina is sure it’s only due to Emma’s upbringing. Children are not so innocent nor naive when they live hard lives.

“What’s wrong, Gina?” Emma asks, staring intently at her as if she can see right through her. The feeling is alien - or perhaps it’s just been too long since someone has looked at her like that. Regina smiles and gives a little shake of her head.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. Ruby and Granny have agreed to look after you whenever I have to work.”

Emma grins in response as Ruby appears with their food, setting down an extra large plate piled high with fries in front of the blonde.

“Club sandwich with extra fries for the young princess,” Ruby jokes, winking down at the blonde. “And a club sandwich with kale salad for Madam Mayor. Enjoy!”

They settled down for  _ Despicable Me 2  _ that night, which had Emma in stitches and Regina hiding her smirks behind her hand in an attempt to seem like she wasn’t really enjoying it (and that was a damn lie because Emma was snuggled in next to her and could feel her silent laughter shaking her body.) One steamy bath and a bubble fight later - the resulting mess forced Regina to change her clothes and she ended up in silk pajamas that matched with Emma’s - they sit together on Emma’s bed, Regina carefully braiding her hair. The brunette sits leaning up against the headboard and Emma’s cross-legged in front of her, absently playing with her stuffed animals. Regina’s handiwork is nearly done when the doorbell sounds, causing both of them to lift their heads in surprise.

“August?” Emma chirps, craning her head back to blink big green eyes at Regina.

“He didn’t mention he’d be visiting tonight,” Regina says, frowning over at her cellphone on the bedside table, which has been quiet all day. “I’ll go check. Be back in a minute, sweetheart.”

Emma nods, scooting out of the way so that Regina can swing her legs off the bed and leave the room. She hops off the opposite end of the bed and races to her window, curiosity getting the better of her, and peers through the curtains down onto the front lawn below. It’s impossible to see who’s standing at the front door from this angle, but she can see a patrol vehicle parked just in front of the house, its white side emblazoned with “Sheriff.” Nothing good has ever come from a cop car sitting outside the house - she knows this from far too many experiences - and she immediately dashes out to see what’s going on, her bare feet silent on the hardwood flooring.

She’s halfway down the curved staircase and glancing through the handrails when she sees them; Regina with her back shoved up against the wall in the foyer, a man in dark leather pinning her there and kissing her fiercely.

The air is knocked out of her lungs in a whoosh, her hands gripping the rails to keep herself steady as the shock washes over her. She shouldn’t be jealous, but there’s something about the aggressive way the man has his hands all over Regina that sets her temper aflame. When Emma realizes Regina is actually struggling to shove the man off of her, though, her anger truly ignites.

She’s on the staircase one minute and charging across the front foyer in the next, shouting  _ “Gina!”  _ with equal parts protectiveness and rage. The man jerks back at the same time Regina shoves him away, turning to face the oncoming child with shock all over his features, and if Emma had been thinking clearly at the time she may have had the sense to stop herself. Instead, she takes one look at their large height difference, knows that kicking and punching isn’t going to work, and in a split-second decision decides to launch herself head first at him.

Literally, head first.

Her feet kick off the ground in her forward leap and the top of her head collides against the front of his jeans, exactly where she’s aiming for. There’s a distinctive  _ crunch  _ and the man nearly folds in half from her momentum slamming into his groin, and then he’s toppling backwards with a strangled cry of agony and Emma lands painfully on her hands and knees by his boots.

“Emma!” Regina drops to the floor, immediately easing Emma off her now bruised knees as the man rolls away from them and curls in on himself, wheezing. His grunts of pain are ignored as Emma and Regina both scramble to check each other for injuries.

“Did he hurt you?” Emma demands, her little voice fierce with protectiveness, and a surprised bark of laughter escapes Regina.

“Did he hurt--? No! Goodness, Emma, I’m fine. Are  _ you  _ hurt? Are your knees okay? Let me see, sweetheart.” She pulls up Emma’s pant-legs to assess the redness on her bony knees, vaguely aware of the man struggling to his knees next to them, still hunched in on himself, his face contorted with discomfort.

“What the hell, Regina?” he groans, eying the young child in the brunette’s arms with absolute befuddlement. Emma glares right back. “Who is this? Is this why you’ve ignored me all week?”

“I think it’s time you left, Sheriff,” Regina says briskly, lifting a cold gaze to meet his troubled eyes. “Your house-calls are no longer needed, nor wanted.”

“Who is this?” he insists, jerking his chin at the child. Regina’s arms encircle Emma a little tighter even as the blonde looks like she’s preparing to clock him in the face with her fist this time.

“She is none of your business.”

“Regina--”

_ “Get out, Graham.”  _ The command is a snarl and Graham visibly flinches, dragging himself up to his feet with a wince, both hands still cupping at his injured groin.

“My apologies, Madam Mayor,” he mutters in a pained voice, limping out of the house and pulling the front door shut behind him. Emma doesn’t relax until his car door slams and the vehicle rumbles away, her green eyes dark and alert.

“Gina?” she says, finally craning up to assess Regina, her small hands on the brunette’s cheeks, a thumb inching towards unpainted lips that are somewhat reddened by Graham’s rough treatment. Regina gently grasps her wandering hand and holds it still, smiling wearily.

“I’m fine, Emma. He didn’t hurt me. We… We just had a little misunderstanding, that’s all. He won’t be coming back again, I promise.”

She’s not stupid - she understands that these “house calls” must have been a regular occurrence in the past, and that Regina has just put an end to them. Still, there’s no point in pushing because Regina surely won’t discuss it with her, so instead she throws her arms around the brunette’s neck and hugs her tight. She’s jostled gently as Regina shifts to stand, and then she’s being carried back up the staircase and into her bedroom.

“Let’s fix up your braid and then tuck you in for bed, okay?”

“Kay.”

As Emma settles back and has her haphazard braid repaired, she grabs the panda-bear pillow from the side of her bed and hugs it to her chest. Regina’s fingers are gentle as she works.

“You were very brave back there,” she finally says, amusement in her tone. “But you didn’t need to attack him, Emma. It’s my job to protect you, not the other way around. Don’t jump into situations like that ever again, alright?”

Emma squeezes her panda a little tighter, lower lip jutted out in a stubborn pout.

“Emma, promise me.”

The blonde cranes her head around, frowning. “No.”

Regina’s fingers go still in her hair. “Emma…”

“No. We protect each other.” She scoots herself around, her braid falling loose again when Regina’s hands fall away. Green eyes are fierce and determined when they meet brown ones, so adamant about protecting her that Regina wonders what she’s done to deserve such a bright light in her world of darkness. Never before has anyone prioritized her safety and wellbeing.

“Always,” she agrees softly, a startled little laugh escaping her as she opens her arms invitingly. “Come here, my little princess.”

Emma climbs into her lap, sinking into her embrace with her face nestling into the crook of Regina’s neck. She makes a happy little humming sound before tilting her face up. “If I’m your princess, then you’re my queen.”

Again Regina laughs, her expression open and warm, something startled and yet accepting in her eyes.  _ If only you knew how true that were,  _ she thinks absently to herself. She’s hated the title ever since Snow White had added “Evil” to her name, but coming from Emma’s lips, she cannot help but warm to it once more. “I suppose I am.”

Emma beams, her expression even more innocent and child-like than usual. “Sleep here with me tonight, Gina?”

“Of course, honey.”

The bed is big enough for them to curl up comfortably against each other. Emma pushes aside some of her stuffed animals for extra room, nudging her stegosaurus off the edge of the bed before snuggling into Regina’s side. The lights go off and Regina settles an arm around Emma so that the blonde can pillow her head on her shoulder.

“Do I have to go to school tomorrow?” Emma asks with a little sigh, eyes mapping out Regina’s soft profile in the pale moonlight filtering through the window. Regina’s lips quirk with a smile and her arm tightens briefly around her back.

“Yes, you do. I have to catch up on work tomorrow too, so you’ll likely spend the afternoon with Ruby and Granny.”

“Mmkay,” she huffs. “Can we make dinner together?”

“Of course we can.”

“And can we--”

“Emma,” Regina chuckles, voice low. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. We’ll do whatever you want to do tomorrow, okay?”

“Kay. Night, Gina.”

Regina tilts her head down to press a tender kiss on Emma’s forehead.

“Goodnight, my darling princess.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all so much for the lovely comments! I may not always reply to them but I do read every single one, and they mean the world to me. Hope you enjoy this chapter! And to those worrying about the big reveal, rest assured that this story does have a happy ending. Hang in there. :)

 

Emma stretches out languidly, a little squeak of contentment escaping her throat as she wiggles her bare toes and tilts her chin up to the sun, her skin soaking up the warmth like a sponge. Next to her, Ruby also lays spread out on the picnic blanket, long hair fanned out around her head and a lazy smile on her red lips. She's started dressing more appropriately in Emma's presence, wearing denim shorts and an acceptable V-neck shirt today that actually matches the blonde's outfit.

"I've never met a five year old who likes to sunbathe," the brunette drawls, turning her head to smirk at Emma. The blonde had been the one to request a trip to the park for the first time, after having spent most of the week cajoling Ruby into letting her watch movies Regina probably wouldn't approve of. To her great surprise, the girl had no interest in the playground, instead deciding to join her on the blanket and even asking if she could use some of her sunscreen. (Ruby proceeded to spray the pale girl down with it, because she's pretty sure Regina will kill her if her daughter is returned to her looking like a boiled lobster.)

"It's relaxing," Emma murmurs, eyes closed. She can hear shifting next to her and opens her eyes to find Ruby laying on her belly with her head turned to her.

"Good, we'll get some color on you yet," Ruby teases, a joke which might have gone over the head of any normal five year old, but Emma snickers and rolls her eyes. "So, you've been here for almost a whole month, huh? How do you like Storybrooke?"

"It's nice," Emma shrugs, closing her eyes again and tilting her face towards the sun.

"It's nice? That's it?"

"The people are nice."

"You like it here better than the other places you've been?"

"Yeah," Emma says simply. She can tell Ruby is fishing but she's not about to go telling her all about her crappy childhood. She can't blame the young woman for trying, though; twenty seven years frozen in time is bound to leave a girl desperate for gossip.

"How's life with the mayor?" Ruby asks after a few minutes of quiet, the only other sound in the park that of young children playing at the playground. She looks after Emma at the mayoral mansion most days, but has so far behaved and limited herself to the living room and kitchen, and is always out the door the minute Regina returns home.

"Good. Gina is nice."

"You're not going to call her 'mom'?"

"I like 'Gina'."

"Mm." Ruby readjusts her chin on her arms. "She's much happier with you around. I'm glad."

"Was Gina not happy before?" Emma finally reopens her eyes, turning her head sideways to look at Ruby. The brunette cracks open one eye to meet her gaze.

"Well, the mayor's a bit of a loner. She didn't really spend time with anyone until you came along." She purses her lips. "Don't tell her I said that."

"I won't," Emma promises, vaguely amused. She rolls over onto her belly as well, propping her chin on her arms and watching the other children running about in the near distance. They're all pre-schoolers and kindergarteners, done with their half-days and out getting some sunshine. Parents and babysitters line the benches on the other end of the playground, watching over their little ones with attentive eyes. Emma watches them yearningly and decides she's going to ask Regina to take her to the park on the weekend, if only to experience having a guardian watch her from the benches for once in her life. It seems a silly notion, but she's been indulging her childish impulses lately.

"Do you know Miss Blanchard?" she asks after a while. Ruby quirks a brow.

"Mary Margaret Blanchard? Yeah, she's a teacher at the school. Why?"

"I don't think Gina likes her very much."

"Don't take this in a bad way, but the mayor doesn't like a lot of people." Ruby chuckles before quickly adding, "She really likes you, though. And she gets along with Granny."

"Mm. Is she married?"

"The mayor?" Ruby asks, startled.

"No. Miss Blanchard."

"Oh. I don't think so, no."

"Does she have a boyfriend?"

"Uh, not that I know of? I don't know her all that well. Why?"

"Just wondering." Emma shrugs. "Does Gina have a boyfriend?"

She's pushing her luck, she knows, and it seems she's finally hit a wall when Ruby makes a face. "Uh, that's something you'd have to talk to her about, Emma. Probably best that I don't gossip about the mayor to you."

"Oh. Okay."

"Hey, you don't need to worry about having to share her with anyone, you know," Ruby says, giving her a comforting smile. "You're not jealous, are you?"

"No," Emma immediately scowls, lower lip jutting out. But then the memory of the sheriff pinning Regina against the wall and claiming her lips makes her blood boil and okay, maybe she's a _little_ jealous. Still she grumbles out, "I'm not jealous."

Ruby laughs in a way that says _'Yeah, okay, sure,'_ but doesn't push it. "She's very happy to have you in her life, I can tell. You're a good influence on her, Emma."

The blonde gives a noncommittal hum, eyes tracking the other children as they run about, laughing and squealing. She can't remember ever being like that as a young child. Granted, very few of her many foster homes ever took her to the park, either.

"Who's Graham?" she asks in an innocent voice. Ruby tilts her head.

"The Sheriff. Great guy. Why d'you ask?"

"Gina mentioned his name once," Emma lies, feigning ignorance.

"Huh. Well, he does report weekly to her. Paperwork and all that." Ruby shrugs. "I would've thought she'd introduced you to him by now. He's kinda like our one and only cop in town."

The brunette squints her eyes a moment, seemingly thinking that over, as if it's bizarre and makes no sense that they only have one law enforcement officer for the entire town, small as it is. Emma wonders if everyone's been in this haze of simply not questioning the strangeness of things in Storybrooke, because the look on Ruby's face is pure befuddlement.

She doesn't get a chance to pry about anything else when there's suddenly a wet nose being pressed to her face. Emma squeaks and rolls into Ruby, who promptly laughs as Archie comes running over to wrangle the rambunctious Dalmatian.

"Pongo! Sit! Down!" He tugs the dog back by his collar. Pongo nearly prances on the spot, tail wagging a mile a minute as his tongue lolls out. Archie gives a half smile, half grimace. "Sorry, ladies! I'm working on training him, really."

"No worries, Dr. Hopper," Ruby chuckles, slinging an arm around Emma as the tiny blonde groans and wipes slobber from her cheek. "Have you met this cutie yet?"

"I haven't had the pleasure." Archie crouches to get a better hold on Pongo while flashing a kind smile at Emma. "Sorry about Pongo, he really likes people. I'm Archie Hopper."

 _Yeah, I know, Grasshopper,_ Emma thinks, grumbling. Outwardly she twists her lips into a smile. "Hi. I'm Emma."

Archie's lips form a small 'o' as he connects the dots. "You must be the little Emma that the mayor adopted! I've heard about you. It's very nice to meet you."

Emma shoots Ruby a questioning glance. The brunette grins. "Small town, kiddo. Everyone hears about everyone, _especially_ when there are new people in town."

Archie nods slightly, his expression contemplative, if not a little bit puzzled. "Yeah. Have you met the two other new folks as well, Ruby? Not often we have so many visitors in Storybrooke,  huh?"

"Two?" Ruby echoes, confused. Emma stiffens.

"Yeah. Uh, August, I think it was, and the woman with him."

"I've met August. He's staying at the BnB. What woman are you talking about?" Ruby glances down at Emma. "Was there someone else with you two?"

Panic surges in Emma's chest and she fights to keep an even look on her face as she replies, "Another social worker lady. She left already."

"Oh," says Ruby, while Archie nods in understanding. A bit of a smile quirks Ruby's lip. "So she's not, like, August's girlfriend or something? Does he have a girlfriend?"

Emma's brows nearly hit her hairline. Evidently Ruby has forgotten she's talking to a five year old. Good thing Emma isn't really five. "No," she says slowly, amused by the glint in Ruby's eyes. "August is always alone."

"Oh. Well then," Ruby murmurs, more to herself than anything. Emma decides then that it's going to be her mission to get her brother a date with the gorgeous young brunette, but before she has a chance to prod Ruby further, a rumble of small footsteps announces a group of children coming their way. Emma blinks up at them, recognizing them as her kindergarten classmates. _My kindergarten classmates,_ she thinks with a roll of her eyes. _Only in Storybrooke._

"Hi," she says aloud, unenthusiastic, when they all stop and smile down at her.

"Hi Emma," they chirp. The group consists of the hyperactive twins Chip and Dale, the mischievous Abu, the grinning Vanellope, and the shy Faline. As children are wont to do, they hardly notice the adults standing nearby and instead zero in on their classmate, much to Ruby and Archie's amusement.

"Come play with us!" Abu says, beaming. Chip and Dale are nearly jogging on the spot.

"Um, that's okay…" Emma murmurs, eyes drifting to Ruby who arches a brow at her.

"Go on, kid, have some fun," the brunette teases.

"Yeah, c'mon, we'll race you!" Dale coaxes, his twin echoing him.

 _I'd run circles around you all,_ Emma thinks with a scoff. She gives an indignant grunt as Ruby pokes her in the side.

"Go play," she says with another tilt of her head. Archie nods encouragingly, so Emma sighs in resignation and clambers to her feet, tugging her sneakers back on and joining the gaggle of children. Vanellope cheers and Faline automatically grabs her hand to tug her along as if she doesn't know what direction to go. Emma wonders if all children are this touchy.

She's practically herded towards the playground, surrounded on all sides by her 'new friends.' The twins declare a competition to see who the fastest runner is, pointing out the various checkpoints around the playground that they have to tap, and Emma plays along for the sake of appearances. Abu turns out to be the quickest of them all, though Emma definitely gives him a run for his money. Sadly, all her hard earned muscles are non existent in this tiny body, and her legs are a little tired by the time she reaches the finish line. Faline had apparently opted out of the race and now sits watching them from the top of the plastic slide.

"Betcha can't beat my record on the monkeybars!" Chip hollers, clambering up onto the platform. Emma scrambles up behind Dale and Vanellope, while Abu is already easily climbing across the bars like a monkey.

"I'm king of the monkeybars!" Abu declares, laughing as he swings himself up on top of the bars and scrambles the remaining distance onto the plastic roof of the other platform. Vanellope swings across next, landing neatly on the far platform and then moving to sit next to Faline. Chip budges in line and swings across next, while Dale rubs at his nose and smiles shyly at Emma, politely letting her go ahead of him.

"C'mon Emma!" Chip shouts from the other platform, bouncing impatiently. Abu and the girls cheer her on as she huffs and eyes the bars overhead. She's smaller than the others and has to jump up to reach the first rung, immediately realizing how pathetically weak her current body is when her weight (skinny as she is) puts a strain on her arms. Still, she's not one to back down from a challenge, and with the other kids all cheering her on, she's going to swing across the monkeybars and get to the other side, damn it.

"Go Emma!" Ruby cheers from her place on the grass, pleased that the blonde is finally playing with the others. She pulls out her cellphone and snaps a few pictures, figuring the mayor might like to see Emma making friends.

Driven solely by her stubbornness, Emma starts swinging across, ignoring the strain and tiredness in her arms. She's two thirds of the way there, kicking her legs to make up for her own lack of momentum, when she misses the rung on her next swing and her other hand - damp with sweat - slips from the bar.

A little shriek escapes her as she falls backwards, legs still kicked out in front of her and her body turned at a slight angle. She tries to adjust herself mid-air to minimize the impact but lands on her elbow first, crying out briefly as the rest of her body hits the ground.

There are immediate cries of concern from the others, along with Ruby shouting her name. Emma just lays frozen on the ground, stunned, her neck and shoulders tense when she'd tried to shield her head from impact. She blinks up to find herself surrounded by the other kids; the twins' eyes are large as saucers, Vanellope's mouth hangs open, Abu is asking if she's okay, and Faline's brows are scrunched together with worry. Emma braces her hands flat on the ground to push herself up into a sitting stance when the pain hits her - white hot agony, shooting up through her right arm. She cries out and drops back down onto her shoulders, instinctively curling her arm to her chest which only manages to intensify the pain.

"Emma!" Ruby finally reaches the group and drops to her knees next to her, hands hovering anxiously while afraid to actually touch. Archie isn't far behind, eyes glued to Emma's quickly bruising arm with a wince of concern. "Oh, crap-- is it broken? Can you move it?"

Emma squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, just riding it out as waves of pain roll over her, her entire arm throbbing hotly. Tears spring from the corners of her eyes and she grits her teeth, whining high in her throat as Ruby's fingers brush damp hair from her forehead. A few other parents wander over at this point, likely the parents of Emma's classmates as they gently tug their children back out of the way and peer down at Emma's tiny, huddled form.

"Did she break her arm?" one asks.

"You should take her to the hospital," another urges.

"Emma, Emma," Ruby coaxes anxiously, trying not to focus on the fact that the mayor's child was injured on her watch. Oh, Regina is going to kill her. "Come on, kiddo. Can you sit up? I'll take you to the hospital. Come on."

Emma whimpers as the brunette lifts her into a sitting position, still clutching her injured arm to her chest. The pain is excruciating and she can't remember the last time she's felt so _hurt._ Tears roll down her cheeks and she sucks in a sharp breath as Ruby grabs her under her armpits and lifts her to her feet as carefully as possible.

"It hurts!" she cries out, voice wobbling as Ruby maneuvers around her to her uninjured side and lifts her up into her arms.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, sweetheart," Ruby soothes her, hurrying towards her red convertible. Archie and the children trail after her a short distance, all offering timid goodbyes and "I hope you feel better, Emma!"

Emma is deposited in the passenger seat where she cries and tries to breathe evenly, and Ruby manages to run through one of the only traffic lights in town in her panicked rush to get Emma to the hospital.

 

'Overprotective mother bear' is an understatement when Regina Mills storms into the hospital. Ruby had called her as soon as she got Emma into the waiting room, so by the time Regina rushed over from the office, she was being directed around by nervous personnel to where they'd taken Emma for treatment.

 _"I want Gina!"_ a tiny voice screams from within a room. Regina nearly smashes the door down in her haste.

"Emma!" She bursts inside, almost crashing into Ruby who paces by the door. The young brunette shrinks back, terrified of getting yelled at, but Regina only has eyes for Emma and immediately rushes to the bedside to worry over the tiny blonde.

"Gina," Emma sobs, wincing and turning towards her even as Doctor Whale and the nurse try to hold her steady. "Gina, it hurts!"

"I know, baby, I know," Regina soothes, stroking Emma's hair back from her face and holding her free hand. "I'm here now. It's okay. Emma, honey, you need to hold still."

Her dark eyes are black when she glares up at Whale fussing over Emma's injured arm. "She's in pain! Why haven't you given her anything for it?"

"We tried, Madam Mayor, but she was fighting us and we didn't want to accidentally hurt her any further--"

"Well give her something now!" Again, her fierceness flips to tenderness as she cups Emma's cheek and tries to coax the girl into focusing on her. "Emma-- Emma, I need you to calm down, okay? The doctor will give you something for the pain, but you need to stop moving around."

The child bites down her sobs and ceases her struggling, teeth digging into her lower lip. Regina keeps her hands cradling Emma's face, palms angled so that she blocks Emma's view as Whale brings up a syringe. A high pitched whimper is all that escapes when the needle pierces her skin. To Regina's relief, the painkiller seems to do its job pretty quickly, and within minutes Emma is quieting down and relaxing into the pillow she's propped up against.

"Is that better?" Regina murmurs, smiling gently when Emma nods her head and clutches Regina's hand to her. To Whale she briskly says, "Well?"

"She broke her arm," he mutters, stiffening up under her piercing gaze. "We got her X-rays done just a while ago; it's a pretty clean fracture. Won't take long to realign it and get her arm into a cast."

"Good. I trust she can be taken care of immediately?" The arch of her brow makes the message clear; _she is your number one priority or so help me god._

"Of course, Madam Mayor," he agrees readily, sending his nurse off to fetch supplies. He begins patiently talking Emma through what's going to happen next, which the blonde only half listens to because she's utterly dazed now that she's coming down off her adrenaline high, while Regina turns on Ruby.

"How could you let this happen?" she hisses, which has the young brunette shrinking back into the corner of the room like a kicked puppy.

"I'm so sorry! I was watching her the whole time, I swear! She was on the monkeybars with the other kids and the next thing I know she's falling off and--"

"You let her on the _monkeybars?_ She's _five!"_

"T-The other five year olds were doing it too! I thought it was okay!"

"She broke her arm, Miss Lucas!"

"Gina," Emma whines from the bed, which has Regina whipping around fast enough to give anyone whiplash. Big green eyes are wide and watery as she pouts up at her. "Please don't be mad at Ruby. It's not her fault."

"Emma, sweetheart--"

"Please?" Emma manages the most pathetic looking puppy-dog face, which has Regina nearly melting in place as she moves towards the bed to stroke at her blonde hair again.

"Okay, I won't be mad at Ruby," the brunette promises. She turns to squint briefly over her shoulder at the waitress, who still stands anxious and guilty in the corner of the room. "You may go, Miss Lucas. I'm taking the rest of the week off to care for Emma."

"I really am sorry, Mayor Mills," the young woman squeaks, bravely inching forward to give Emma a quick and sympathetic smile. "Hope you feel better soon, Emma."

"Bye Ruby," Emma murmurs, watching her make her escape. Regina drags a chair over to sit by her bedside as the nurse returns with supplies and Whale gets to work on her arm. "Sorry I hurt myself," she whispers after a moment, guilt ridden at having disturbed Regina's day at work. The brunette shakes her head emphatically.

"You have nothing to apologize for. It was an accident. I just wish I could…" She trails off, frowning at Emma's injured arm, which is now swollen and blotchy with dark bruising. If only she had her magic, she could simply heal it and get rid of Emma's pain entirely. Shaking her head at the useless thought, she gives another smile. "Well, no matter. You just focus on resting, my dear. I'll take good care of you, I promise."

Emma blinks owlishly at her, wondering why it is that Regina feels the need to phrase it like that, as if she has to say it aloud to make it genuine. She leans into the hand that strokes her hair and gives a dopey little smile.

"I know," she murmurs softly, before getting distracted by Whale readjusting her now very numb arm and missing the significant look on Regina's face.

 

She's finally released in the early evening once Whale assures Regina that her arm is protected in a cast and that she'll be good as new in a month or two. The painkillers have wore off just enough that Emma is alert and hungry again, and her saccharine request for an ice cream sundae is accepted without hesitation. Doctor Whale _did_ speak privately to Regina about making sure Emma ate well-rounded diets to aid in her recovery, however, so the brunette gets Emma to agree to a club sandwich before her dessert.

"Can we watch a Disney movie tonight?" Emma requests, content to hold Regina's hand as they walk the short distance to Granny's diner.

"Of course, honey." The brunette leads her directly to their usual booth in the back, paying no mind to where Ruby just about hides behind the cash register, and hovers over Emma as the child climbs up into her seat with her injured arm awkwardly in a sling.

"Does it hurt?" Regina asks, settling in across from her, brows scrunched together as she watches Emma fiddle with the sling.

"A little," Emma admits, shrugging her good shoulder. "But I'm okay."

"If it gets worse, let me know. Doctor Whale said I can give you a pill for the pain in about two more hours."

"Kay." Emma smiles sweetly, her cheeks dimpling. Green eyes flicker to the side as Ruby scuffles over to take their order, looking very apologetic. "Hiya Ruby!"

"Hey kiddo." The waitress smiles uncertainly, eyes on the cast. "How're you doing?"

"Good. I got a cast." Emma beams as if she's showing off a battle wound. "Wanna write on it?"

"Maybe later," Ruby chuckles softly. "What can I get for you two? It's on me. Least I can do."

Regina seems placated by the offer and makes their order, tacking on a _super special_ sundae for after their meal that has Emma absolutely beaming with anticipation. Ruby smiles fondly at the girl and scampers off with their order just as August enters the diner from the back entrance, looking casual and freshly showered in jeans and a fitted shirt. He runs a hand through his damp hair, stifling a yawn and ambling to the counter for a coffee when he spots them.

"Evening, ladies," he greets with his boyish smile, which quickly turns into a frown when he notices Emma's arm in a cast and sling. "Emma! What happened to your arm?"

"I fell from the monkeybars," the blonde giggles, apparently finding that hilarious. August's eyes slide to Regina, who already sits stiff with this look of apprehension on her withdrawn face. For a moment he almost thinks he sees fear in those dark brown eyes - fear that he'll blame her? Fear that he'll take Emma away? - but he quickly ignores the possible reasons and gets back into character, fixing a sympathetic smile on his face.

"I'm so sorry, August, I should have called you at the hospital," Regina says quickly, brows knitting together. "I know I'm not her emergency contact yet, but Ruby called me and--"

"It's okay, Regina," he chuckles. "She's a kid. Accidents happen. I know she's in good hands with you."

"I scared Ruby when I fell," Emma admits with a laugh, indirectly letting him know that she'd been in the waitress's care when she'd been injured. August quirks his brow at her but doesn't dwell on it, instead grinning a little wider as he perches himself on the edge of the bench Emma sits on.

"Glad you two are here, actually, because I'd been meaning to call you later today," he directs at Regina, eyes crinkling. "The paperwork's gone through. I have some forms for you to sign, but otherwise, the adoption's been cleared."

Regina's brows lift ever so slightly, momentarily taken off guard with surprise and disbelief. Emma waits for her reaction, startled when Regina actually chokes out, "Really?"

August is the master of faking genuine smiles, because his smile moves his entire face, eyes sparkling with cheerful delight and a perfect row of white teeth peeking out between parted lips. "Really," he confirms, voice warm. "You're officially her legal guardian, Regina."

Neither Pinocchio nor the Savior expect the Evil Queen to _cry,_ but there's no mistaking the sudden wetness in Regina's eyes as she swallows down the lump in her throat and smiles beautifully at them. Both are stunned into silence.

"Thank you, August," Regina finally says, her voice tight with emotion.

"You're welcome," he manages.

"Does that mean I can stay?" Emma suddenly blurts out, eyes wide. "You're keeping me?"

Regina reaches across the table to take her uninjured hand, squeezing her fingers gently. Even in her own joy, she immediately understands that this is a first for Emma - the first time a foster parent is adopting her for good, the first time that perhaps she feels like she's truly wanted. She wants nothing more than to be the first of many firsts for the beautiful little girl.

"I'll keep you forever, if you let me," Regina says softly. Emma squeezes her hand back and smiles and blinks back her own tears, forcing herself to breathe in deeply because _Damn it, Swan, you've cried enough for one day,_ but Regina doesn't seem to mind.

 

The papers are signed as soon as they return to the mayoral mansion, and then Regina politely excuses herself to her study while August and Emma have their chat in the living room - now a twice-a-week occurrence rather than daily. Emma sits comfortably nestled into Regina's favourite armchair while August perches on the couch, frowning slightly.

"I'm worried about you, Em," he says, voice low. "Some days you're really starting to seem like a five year old. Back at the diner--"

"I _am_ a child right now, if you haven't noticed," Emma replies with a scowl. "This was your idea in the first place, remember?"

"I know. It's just… You're not losing yourself, are you? Your real self?"

"What? No! Of course not."

"You'll tell me if you get worse? Or if you start, like, losing your adult memories or something?"

"Jesus, August, that's not happening. I'm not being replaced by my child self." Emma rolls her eyes, grimacing as a twinge of pain runs through her arm when she shifts in place. "It's just… I dunno. Being a kid, pretending to act like a kid, it kind of makes it feel more real, you know? Like I'm reliving my childhood in a weird way. Some of it's just getting to me a little, that's all. Someone actually _wanting_ to adopt me… I can't help getting a little worked up. But I'm still me, alright?"

He furrows his brow at her for a long moment, concern and sympathy all mixed together, before finally nodding his head. "Yeah, okay. I get it. It's just kinda rough, seeing you act like this with the Evil Queen."

"Stop calling her that," Emma mutters, stiffening slightly under the strange look he gives her. "Look, we're undercover here. What if someone ever hears you calling her that? It's just safer to call her Regina."

"You're right," he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. After a moment, he frowns at the small stack of papers on the coffee table in front of him. "Guess I should go put these away. I'll eventually have to come up with a new reason for sticking around town."

"Just say you like it here and wanna stay a while," Emma shrugs. "Heck, use Ruby as an excuse."

"Ruby?" he repeats, baffled.

"The girl's been making eyes at you all week, and don't pretend you aren't attracted to her too." Emma smirks at the appalled look on August's face. "Stick around and try to woo her. Regina will totally believe it."

"She's twice my age, Emma!"

"Being frozen in time doesn't count. Hell, _you_ look older than her now, don't be picky."

"I am not taking dating advice from a five year old," he grumbles, gathering up the paperwork and standing. "I'm heading out. I've got work to do."

"Right. I hadn't asked; how is it going with your Papa?"

"It's… It's good," he says after a moment, relenting with a smile. "He's doing well. I, ah, ended up talking to him - volunteered to help him out in his workshop. I have to make up some stories about my past whenever he asks, of course, but it's working for now. It's enough."

"That's good. I'm glad," Emma smiles. "Any news on my father?"

August hesitates, a flicker of worry in his eyes. "Maybe, but… Let me confirm it before I tell you, okay? I don't want to get your hopes up." He also doesn't want to break her heart, if the comatose patient he'd caught a glimpse of really was Prince Charming. He'll have to make another trip to the hospital soon.

Emma just shrugs a little, carefully sliding out of the armchair to see him out. "Okay. Keep me posted."

"I will." August opens the front door, then pauses to lean over and press a quick kiss to the top of her head, his voice going solemn. "Hey, I love you, Ems."

"Stay safe," she murmurs, reaching up to bump her fist against his hip, which is apparently as high as she can reach nowadays. He smiles and gives a little wave before stepping out and shutting the door, making sure the auto lock snaps shut behind him. Emma releases a long sigh, mulling over their conversation for a moment before finally padding her way into the study to find Regina at her desk, sipping a glass of cider and gazing over the copy of the paperwork August had left with her.

"August went home," Emma says, plodding barefoot into the room. Regina pushes away from the desk and spins her wide office chair sideways so that she can gently lift Emma up, the blonde automatically making herself comfortable on the brunette's lap.

"Mm. How's your arm feeling?"

"It's okay."

"Do you want to go watch that movie now?"

"Can we sit here for a while first?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

Emma fiddles with the hem of her sling again, quiet. Regina patiently waits for her to speak first. After a few minutes of silence she says, softly, "Gina?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for keeping me." Emma ducks her head, cheeks flushed. She hardly notices the twinge of discomfort from her injury when Regina wraps her arms around her a little firmer and hugs her close to her chest, face nestled against her hair.

"Thank you for staying," Regina whispers back, placing a reverent kiss atop the girl's head. Emma closes her eyes and relaxes into the embrace, her ear pressed to the brunette's chest where she can hear the steady beat of her heart. It's funny; August used to tell her stories about how the Evil Queen must have taken out her own heart so that she would not be hindered by emotions. Sitting here feeling safe and loved and _wanted,_ however, Emma is certain she has never met anyone with more heart and more emotions than Regina.


	6. Chapter 6

 

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, Em. Potions and spellbooks and all kinds of weird shit. And  _ hearts.  _ An entire room full of them. It was…" August hesitates, looking uncomfortable. "It was really freaky."

Emma and August sit at the edge of the school playground, their quiet conversation masked by the loud chatter and laughter of the other children. It's break time and Emma nibbles at her peanut butter and jelly sandwich while August sips at a takeout coffee.

"You made sure to leave everything the way you found it, right?"

"Of course. I felt like an asshole pushing Henry Mills's coffin around but yeah, it's back in place."

"Henry Mills?"

"Her father, I'd assume, if the dates on the lid correspond with this world's years. There was a relatively fresh bouquet of flowers there. She must have visited him recently."

"Probably while Ruby was babysitting me. I'll casually inquire about grandparents or something later, see if I can find out the story behind that."

"Sure. Just be tactful about it, huh?"

"Obviously. Any news on my dad?"

"Uh…" August hesitates, staring down into his coffee. His adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

"August?"

"Yeah… I found him." He scratches at the back of his neck with one hand, stalling. Emma's insistent hand on his elbow forces him to continue. "He's a comatose patient in the hospital. They don't know his, uh, Storybrooke identity. He's listed as John Doe, and it looks like he's been there since the curse began."

"He's… oh." Emma furrows her brow a little. "But he's stable, right? He's just in a coma? That's… Well, he's not dying at least, right?"

"Right," he's quick to assure her. "He's just kind of frozen like that. I bet he'll wake up as soon as you break the curse. So at least now we know where he is, and that he's not going anywhere."

"Yeah. Suppose so. That's… that's good, I guess. But can you take me to go see him sometime? I just want to… to say hi."

"Sure, Emma. Of course."

Emma nods, finishing off her sandwich and dusting the crumbs off her shirt with her good hand, taking care not to jostle her arm cast. She eyes August's coffee and smacks her lips. "Can I have some?"

He actually looks somewhat worried. "And have Regina kill me when she smells coffee on your breath? I don't think so."

"Oh come on, August. I haven't had coffee in more than a month. Just a sip! I'll have a breath mint afterwards or something."

She makes her best puppy-dog impression and, after a full minute, August caves, handing over the still-warm styrofoam cup. After her first mouthful of sweetened coffee, she groans.

"Oh god. I've missed this."

"Alright, hand it back."

"No way. You can buy yourself another coffee, I'm finishing this." She licks her lips, taking another hearty mouthful as August sighs and shakes his head.

"You're going to be bouncing off the walls, idiot."

"I don't care," Emma singsongs gleefully, not noticing Mary Margaret's approach until the brunette is sliding onto the bench next to her with a reproachful look on her face.

"Is that a coffee from Granny's?"

Emma actually freezes, the cup still against her lips, her cheeks full. August flushes and gently takes the cup out of Emma's hand.

"She wanted to know what coffee tasted like," he lies with a bashful little smile. Emma swallows down her mouthful with an audible gulp as Mary Margaret quirks a brow at her.

"Emma, coffee isn't good for children your age."

"Sorry," the blonde mumbles, eyes downcast. Mary Margaret just shakes her head a little with a reproachful smile before nodding her head in greeting towards August.

"August. You're still in town?" she notes kindly. "I'd heard the adoption went through."

"Oh, it did, Miss Blanchard. I've just decided to stick around for a while. I could use a break from work, and Storybrooke's quite… charming." There's an amused glint in his eye but Mary Margaret has no reaction to his reference other than a bright and cheery smile, as per her usual.

"That's wonderful to hear! It's good to see the Mayor spending time with more people." She flushes slightly under August's gaze. "She doesn't really have any friends and well, I've seen you three together often, and… It's good," she flounders. August just smiles and crinkles his eyes.

"Indeed. She and Emma make quite the adorable pair." He glances down to catch Emma's eye and the both of them exchange the briefest of grimaces at Mary Margaret's insinuation of 'the three of them together.' They might have laughed at the absurdity of it if not for the brunette's presence.

Mary Margaret bids them a friendly goodbye, and August scoots off shortly thereafter once Emma's called back in after recess. They're doing some sort of numbers lesson in which they have to match the amount of dots to the corresponding number, and Emma barely resists banging her head against the desk in boredom. Her 'friends' are crowded around her, sharing the same large table, and she tries to entertain herself by talking to them instead of focusing on the activity at hand.

"Did anybody watch Aladdin?" she asks conversationally, glancing to where Abu is scrunching his brow as he counts out dots on a cue card. Chip and Dale nod their heads in tandem, barely paying attention to the lesson, while Vanellope and Faline are too distracted counting dots to register her question. "Abu?" Emma prods.

"Hm? Oh yeah. I like Aladdin," he says, flashing a toothy smile. "The monkey has the same name as me!"

"No, really? What a coincidence," Emma drawls. The boys give her an odd look at her use of a big word they don't understand. Abu crinkles his nose.

"What's a coincidence?"

Emma just shrugs before turning her gaze on Vanellope, reaching up to gently bat at the girl's black pigtails. Vanellope grins at her, abandoning the cue card in her hand to mess with Emma's hair in retribution.

"Didja see Wreck-it Ralph?" Emma asks her directly. Vanellope shakes her head.

"The new cartoon? No. My momma said she'd take me to see it soon though."

"We saw that one!" the twins shout gleefully, their excitement loud enough that Mrs. Potts glances over to their noisy table.

"I like Ralph," Dale declares, waving his fists in the air in a mock imitation of the character. Chip, on the other hand, actually hammers his fists on the table, howling out,  _ "I'm gonna wreck it!" _

"Boys!" Mrs. Potts scolds softly, but the woman is as soft as her appearance and the twins just smile toothily at her until she's placated.

"I like Snow White and the Seven Dwarves," Emma offers up after a few minutes of quiet chatter. "Miss Blanchard reminds me of Snow White."

The others consider her comparison with as much depth as their young minds can, and promptly chirp their agreements with curious smiles and tilts of their heads.

"She always does the birdhouse project," says Faline.

"And she's super nice," Abu adds in, beaming. "She gave me an apple once!"

Emma blanches slightly at the thought. Snow White's not the one who's known for handing out apples. Then again, she supposes apples are a schoolteacher thing. She's just glad Regina has never sent her to school with an apple for her teachers. She knows Regina would never hurt her, but she's not naive enough to think everyone else is necessarily safe if they were ever at her mercy. She can't afford to think the former Evil Queen is entirely harmless, as much as she may adore her.

Wait, what? Not adore. She's just… fond of her. Yes. Fond.

Regina picks her up after school and immediately notices something is off when Emma doesn't greet her with a hug and a beaming smile. Instead, the blonde looks deep in thought, brows scrunched as she absently follows Regina to the car and climbs in. She normally hates getting into the booster seat and always makes a point to huff or roll her eyes a little, but today she simply buckles herself in without complaint.

"Is something wrong, sweetheart?" Regina ventures as she starts up the car and pulls away from the curb. Emma startles a little, big green eyes snapping up to meet her gaze in the rearview mirror.

"Hmm? No. Nothing's wrong." Emma gives a reassuring little smile and goes back to staring out the window. Regina says nothing more, a slight tension around her eyes, uncertain of Emma's unusual behavior and hoping it resolves itself soon enough. Vaguely she wonders if it's because of August. The man hasn't said anything but she assumes he'll be leaving soon now that the adoption's been finalized. Perhaps Emma knows this, and is already afraid to lose one of the few good people in her life.

"How about we invite August to dinner tonight?" she suggests as they pull up onto Mifflin Street, the Benz rolling down the familiar asphalt at a languid pace. Emma brightens and grins at her from the backseat.

"Yeah!"

Aha. It's about August then, Regina thinks with relief. She'll have to talk to him tonight after dinner. Possibly convince the man to come visit them on occasion, so that Emma won't feel as though she's been abandoned. Besides, he's kind enough and he seems to be the apple of Emma's eye. Regina wouldn't mind having him around.

August is actually preferable company, she thinks dully, when she pulls up into her driveway and notices the Sheriff's vehicle parked just down the street. Emma hasn't seen it yet, so Regina hops out of the car and quickly unbuckles the girl, eager to get her into the house before they can be seen.

"Madam Mayor," Graham calls out, weary. Regina curses in her mind as Emma stiffens under her hand.

"What do you want, Sheriff?" she asks, keeping her voice indifferent.

"We were supposed to go over this month's budget," he mutters, waving a folder in his hands. She curls her lip at him.

"Make an appointment with my secretary like everyone else."

"I tried. She said you were busy and booked for the next few weeks." He gives her a dull look, knowing she's been purposely avoiding him. When his eyes finally fall on Emma's tiny form stepping out from behind Regina, he instinctively winces and shifts his hands over his crotch as if to protect himself.

_ Fat chance,  _ Emma thinks, giving him a sugary sweet smile. Graham clears his throat awkwardly.

"Hello," he says, offering up a polite smile and squatting down to be on her level, as if she were stupid enough not to remember him from that night. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Sheriff Humbert. I'm kind of like the town cop; do you know what cops do?"

Oh, she  _ hates  _ being talked down to. Emma gives her most saccharine smile and says, in her sweetest tone, "I know what cops  _ don't  _ do," and that has the smile falling off Graham's face so fast that he jumps back to his feet as if he'd been slapped. When Emma glances up, Regina's grinning proudly at her.

"I think it's time for you to go, Sheriff," Regina says coolly in Graham's direction, laying a protective hand on Emma's head. "I'll have Andrea schedule you in for the monthly report by the end of the week."

At a loss for words, Graham just nods, ducks his head, and scurries away. Emma watches him go with a shit eating grin on her face until Regina grasps her hand and tugs her towards the house. Kicking off her boots and dumping her bag in the lobby, she scurries for the kitchen.

"Emma," Regina calls, voice caught between stern and hesitant. "Please put your things away properly."

"Oh." Emma scampers back to place her boots in the shoe rack and relocate her bag. She's starting to revert to her own sloppy habits and shakes her head slightly at herself for her carelessness. She needs to keep playing the role of perfect child; this is no time to blow her cover by misbehaving. "Sorry, Gina."

"It's okay. Thank you, darling." She rests a hand fondly atop Emma's head, stroking down her wild blonde curls before moving towards the kitchen. "Shall I make you a snack?"

"Mm." Emma hums noncommittally, trailing after her as Regina props open the fridge and considers their choices. It takes a great deal of effort to remind herself that this is all one big deception - an act. And she has a job to do. "Gina?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Chip and Dale were telling me about their grandpa today," Emma begins conversationally, resisting the urge to roll her eyes because  _ only in Storybrooke  _ would she talk about real people named Chip and Dale.

"Oh?" Regina retrieves a tub of yogurt and various containers of fruit from the fridge, setting them out on the table, then rustles through a cabinet for some oatmeal.

"Uh huh." She doesn't bother trying to finish the half-assed story. Children don't normally tell coherent stories anyway. Instead, she segues with an innocent, "Do I get a grandpa too? And a grandma?"

There's a soft thump as Regina fumbles and drops the bag of dry oatmeal on the counter. She stills, shoulders tensing up, then gets to work preparing a fruit and yogurt mixture without meeting Emma's eyes. "No, unfortunately not, sweetheart."

"How come?"

"Because… they passed away." Regina clears her throat, sprinkling dry oatmeal into the mix.

"Oh." Emma sucks on her lower lip, wondering how far she can push for information. August hadn't known much about the Evil Queen's backstory, but there's a niggling feeling in her back of her skull that thinks there must be something important, something instrumental about Regina's parents that led to where they are now. "Sorry."

Regina just shoots her a brief smile over her shoulder before ducking her head again.

"Are they here?" she asks after a moment, watching as the brunette pulls open a drawer for a spoon.

"Here?" comes the weary, confused echo.

"Abu says he visits his grandparents at the cemetery," Emma lies with ease. She vaguely wonders if her parents would be disappointed to know how easily she lies and makes up stories and manipulates people for a living. Probably. Mary Margaret Blanchard would, well,  _ blanche _ at the thought, surely.

"Oh." Regina finally turns around and slides the bowl across the island to where Emma sits atop a barstool, then busies herself putting everything else away. "I… I suppose your… 'grandfather' is in the family mausoleum."

Dead, then. That confirms August's findings at the cemetery. 

"Can we visit him too?" comes the innocent question, promptly followed by a large spoonful of yogurt, oatmeal, and blueberries getting shoveled into her mouth. Something dark flickers through Regina's eyes but it's quickly replaced by a forced smile, her lips pressed tightly together.

"If you'd like."

Emma beams and nods, scarfing down another mouthful. "And grandma?"

That dark look returns again, expression tense with what almost looks like a mixture of hatred and aggression. The emotion is so sudden that the blonde feels herself stiffen up, a trickle of fear skittering up her spine.

"She's not here." Her voice is blank, a stark contrast to the look in her eyes.

Emma swallows down the sudden lump in her throat and, against her better judgement, presses, "How come?"

"She just is, Emma. She's gone and she's never coming back, okay? Please just eat your snack." A hand pressed to her stomach, Regina turns away to face the windows, head shifting side to side as if debating whether she should exit the kitchen and leave Emma to her own devices for a while. 

"Do you miss her?"

The question has Regina jerking in place as if struck, her spine going ramrod straight and her hands clenching into fists. Emma is caught entirely off guard when the brunette turns around and pins her with a hard stare, brown eyes so dark that they look like orbs of black ice. Her husky voice, once warm and affectionate, is now cold and sharp, no better than a growl.

"No. She's gone; end of story. Do not speak of her to me ever again, Emma. Is that understood?" 

Emma freezes in place. She should apologize, she knows that. She should put on her best innocent puppy-dog expression and grovel for forgiveness and pretend that it was all just childish stupidity on her part. Instead, she drops her spoon on the counter, stumbles off the barstool, and bolts from the kitchen, clambering up the staircase even as Regina calls out after her in a voice that sounds mortified.

She supposes that was the infamous glare the Evil Queen was once known for.

Her bedroom door slams loudly behind her and she pauses to scowl at the door knob, wishing there was a lock. Instead, she dives under the thick duvet on her bed and curls up into a ball against her pillow, clutching the covers around herself so that she's effectively hidden beneath the baby blue sheets. The position is no different than the one she used to take when hiding from the boogey monster in her real childhood, during those many years when she and August were separated by the dreaded 'boys room' and 'girls room' of whatever foster home they'd been shoved into. Now, familiar footsteps hurry down the hall towards her and her bedroom door opens a moment later.

"Emma," comes the husky voice, now tight and strained with remorse. "I'm so sorry."

Emma says nothing, pulling the blankets tightly around herself when she feels questing hands try to uncover her from her hiding place. Regina stops a moment later, her weight coming down gently on the edge of the bed, one hand still resting against Emma's shoulder through the duvet. The touch doesn't offer the same warmth or comfort it once seemed to and Emma shrugs it off with a shudder, unable to think of anything but those angry black eyes.

"I-- I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Please, please don't be mad at me."

Still she says nothing, eyes squeezed shut, her knuckles white from clutching onto the only thing hiding her from the Evil Queen. They both remain unmoving for the longest while, sitting in silence except for the soft puff of Emma's laboured breathing from her coiled-up position within the blankets.

"Emma?" the brunette whispers, voice cracking ever so slightly. When the blonde still remains silent, she eases off the bed, hands wringing together in restless distraught. "I… I really am sorry. I'll… I'll give you some space, okay? I'll get started on dinner and ask August to come over this evening…"

She trails off, sounding miserable. Emma doesn't move, feeling the brunette's intense gaze staring at her huddled form. Eventually, those familiar footsteps leave the room and the door clicks shut behind her. She doesn't crawl out from beneath her covers for another ten minutes until finally she peers out, making certain that she's alone. The soft clatter from the kitchen downstairs assures her that Regina is occupied, so she retrieves her cellphone from within the stuffed stegosaurus and boots it up. The battery is getting low and she'll have to get August to charge it up for her soon.

**[meet me at the park in 10],** she taps out. His reply arrives within minutes.

_ [Why? U OK?] _

**[yeah. See you in a bit]**

Returning her phone to its hiding place, she pulls on a fluffy coat that fits over her arm cast and creeps her way downstairs. Regina is noisy in the kitchen when she's upset, pots and pans clattering a little harder than necessary. In this case, Emma is thankful for the quirk as she silently pulls on a pair of boots and creeps her way to the back door, keeping an ear open for the brunette's movements all the while. Regina has a tendency to leave the back door propped open on warm summer days when they're home, so Emma simply has to slide open the screen door and slip out into the yard. Creeping around the opposite side of the building and climbing through the hedges, she's free in moments and booking it down the sidewalk.

"Are you crazy? She's going to freak out when she realizes you're missing!"

When August arrives, Emma is already sitting on the wooden platform of a little castle structure in the park, her legs swinging listlessly over the edge and her little body hunched in on itself. She has her injured arm cradled on her lap, the cast already decorated by colorful markers thanks to her classmates.

"I needed space," Emma complains halfheartedly, picking at invisible lint on her jeans. August looks her over with a frown and hops up to join her on the platform.

"Are you okay? Did she… did she hurt you?"

"No. She just…" Green eyes flicker around the park uncertainly, never quite meeting August's concerned gaze. "I was asking about her parents and she snapped at me."

"Emma, I told you to be careful," he says, voice rough. "She has a dark past and a lot of skeletons in her closet. You can't just push her about…" He grunts, frustrated, and runs a hand through his hair. "Did you-- do you think you blew your cover? We can't take any risks, Emma. She's dangerous. If she knows, I'm pulling you out right now. We'll go back to Boston--"

"No! We can't pull out now. The hell are we going to do when she puts out an amber alert for a missing child? God, August." She rubs her face with her free hand, sighing heavily. "I didn't blow my cover. She tried to apologize to me for losing her temper and she seemed really sorry. I just… It just freaked me out a little, that's all. I'm fine. I… I just didn't expect to be on the receiving end of the Evil Queen's anger. I mean,  _ me  _ of all people..."

He regards her with worried eyes, unsure of what to make of her warring emotions. She looks conflicted, and that's a dangerous thing when one is dealing with the Evil Queen.

"You can't afford to be careless," he murmurs finally, settling a hand on her back. It's strange how his hand seems so large compared to her now, palm and fingertips easily reaching from one of her bony shoulderblades to the other. "She may love having a child, but it doesn't make you safe. No one is safe. You need to remember that."

Emma sets her jaw, staring aimlessly across the park. "Yeah…"

"Are you  _ sure  _ you're okay? Because if you don't feel safe, even for a minute, you let me know and we're out of here. Your life isn't worth a reconnaissance mission."

"I know," she says. "I'm fine, I promise."  _ She wouldn't hurt me,  _ a little voice adds in a whisper, but a part of her wonders at the truth of that, too.  _ She wouldn't hurt me, would she? _

"We need to get you back, then," August finally says, checking his phone. "She texted me when I was on my way here and invited me to dinner. Hopefully she hasn't gone to check on you since then."

"You can act all heroic and return me safely to her." Emma gives a wry grin, some humor back in her tone. August rolls his eyes and hops off the platform, opening his arms to her.

"Yeah, sure, put me in her Majesty's good graces. C'mere, monkey."

"Monkey?" Emma repeats, feigning outrage even as she climbs into his arms, accepting the free ride. "I think I preferred 'princess'."

"As you wish, princess." His tone is faintly mocking but he gives her a little squeeze of a hug which she returns, arms slung around his neck as he carries her away. It's a ten minute walk back to Mifflin Street; August takes fifteen because Emma's still clinging to him a little tightly and he wants to prolong their time together as much as possible.

"I think she noticed your absence," he murmurs when they turn the corner, the Sheriff's vehicle parked on the curb in front of the mayoral mansion once more. Emma cranes around to see and immediately bristles.

"I can't believe she called that fucker!"

"Language, kid," he reminds her, patting her back in a soothing manner. "I know you don't like him, but he  _ is  _ the only law enforcement in town. Who else was she gonna call when you went missing?"

"Hurry up," she demands, giving his shoulder a thump. "I don't want to leave her alone with him in there."

August obediently rushes towards the mansion, speed-walking up the path at the same time the front door flies open and Regina steps out, eyes red-rimmed, clutching a handkerchief that she quickly shoves into the pocket of her gray pantsuit. He falters only momentarily - deja vu much? - before quickly setting Emma down on her feet.

"Go," he whispers, giving her a little push at the same time Regina cries out, "Emma!"

Shuffling forward at the same time the brunette runs towards her, Emma allows herself to be enveloped in a hug, but she can't quite muster up the same enthusiasm she once did. Those black eyes and growling voice linger at the back of her mind even as Regina now clutches to her with relief, brown eyes swimming with tears and voice cracking.

"Where were you? You can't just run away like that! I was so scared. What if you'd gotten lost or hurt? What if someone took you?" The frantic chatter, so genuinely afraid, soothes Emma enough that she relaxes in Regina's arms and shrugs her shoulders apologetically.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, eyes downcast. She can feel August coming up behind her at the same time Graham appears in the doorway behind Regina.

"Sheriff," August says, smiling wryly as the other man edges out towards them. "Sorry for the alarm. Hope we didn't interfere too much in your day; I can take it from here."

It's a not-so-subtle hint and Graham immediately nods, looking relieved for the quick escape. "Of course. Good day, Mr. Booth, Madame Mayor."

As he hops into his cruiser and takes off, Regina finally lifts her head to regard August with a grateful yet nervous smile. "August--"

"It's okay, she's fine," he reassures her, smiling softly. He can see it again - that look of fear behind her mask, as if he'd blame her for being a terrible mother, as if Emma running away had been her doing. "Why don't we go inside and get her settled first?"

Regina nods and scoops Emma up, taking her back into the house. The blonde looks mildly uncomfortable but doesn't fight it, her brows knit together and her wide green eyes looking at anything but Regina's face. As soon as they're inside, however, she wriggles to be put down and scampers back up the staircase to her room, neither of the adults following.

"Is she--?"

"She'll be alright." August sets a guiding hand on Regina's back and leads her towards the kitchen, moving to start up a pot of coffee. He's been in this kitchen with her often enough to know where everything is now and moves around with ease. "I hope you know that this isn't your fault, Regina."

"I snapped at her," the brunette says immediately, distraught. "She asked me about something completely normal and I lost my temper. I shouldn't have--"

"She's a foster child," he interrupts gently, holding out a hand to stop her before she works herself up more. "I know it's not pleasant to think about, but Emma's had a very difficult life already. The people who've dealt with her, the places she's been at - running away has become a natural response for children like her. There's going to be a lot of adjustments for both of you. She needs time to truly understand that this isn't just another temporary situation."

"I still shouldn't have lost my temper like that," Regina bemoans, arms wrapped around her middle as her shoulders hunch in on themselves. 

"I agree," August offers. Regina winces slightly. "Still, you shouldn't blame yourself for her running away. It may happen again - it most likely will. What's important is that you understand why she does it and make the effort to give her less reasons to."

Large brown eyes fall on him, almost pleading. "What do I do?"

"Be honest," he says, smiling wryly. "She was a foster child. They're used to being lied to and manipulated. The only way you can earn her trust is to be honest with her, and that means being open and willing to answer her questions. No secrets, no deception." 

Oh, how hypocritical they're being, he thinks bitterly to himself. Here he and Emma are, playing the biggest deception of all. Gold's words drift through his mind again and he pushes the thoughts away, refusing to linger on the guilt trying to claw its way into his chest. They're doing it for a good reason. They need to know what they're up against, so that they're prepared to break the Evil Queen's curse when the time comes.

_ Keep telling yourself that,  _ a traitorous voice says in his mind. He plasters a forced smile on his face and slides a cup of coffee across the island into Regina's hands.

"If it's any consolation, I think I'd like to stick around for a while, take a break from work and all. I'd be happy to offer my assistance if you ever need it."

Brown eyes lock onto his with an intensity that has him going still. "I had hoped to speak to you about that, actually. It would be… appreciated, if you extended your stay. Emma trusts you, and…" She trails off, then begins anew on a different thought pattern. "Please, let me rent your room for you at the BnB. It's the least I can do."

"That would be wonderful." He smiles, more genuinely, then glances over at the half-prepared food items on the counters. "Now, may I help you with dinner?"

\------------------------------------------

Dinner is a quiet affair, punctuated only by August's feeble attempts to start up a conversation. Regina tries her best but she seems disheartened by Emma's newfound silence except for the occasional grunt or one-word answers.

"Regina makes an amazing lasagne, doesn't she?" he offers, to which the tiny blonde smiles awkwardly and hums an agreement between bites. It isn't exactly a glowing recommendation, but Regina smiles nonetheless, looking utterly relieved when Emma finally excuses herself from the table and disappears back upstairs, taking the heavy feeling of tension away with her.

"She's still mad at me," the brunette sighs as August helps to collect their dishes.

"Perhaps 'mad' isn't the word. Tough as she may act, she is still an orphaned child at heart. Having a parental figure lose their temper can be frightening and hurtful."

Something flickers through Regina's dark eyes - an understanding, of sorts, mixed with her own brand of pain and anger. August would be a fool to think it was not linked to her rash reaction to being asked about her parents.

"I'll do better," she says after a moment, voice quiet. "She deserves a mother who loves her and treats her right. I would never… I'd never hurt her."

"Good." He smiles reassuringly and starts washing the dishes regardless of her feeble protests. They talk for only a little while longer before he heads out for the evening, leaving her with a lot to think about. As the hour wears on and the dark of night settles over them, she finally works up the courage to knock on Emma's door.

"Emma? Sweetheart? Can I come in?"

A muffled 'yeah' is heard through the door, so Regina lets herself in and sits down gingerly on the edge of the bed next to an Emma-shaped lump under the blankets. They were in this exact position just earlier that day, but Regina hopes the outcome is different this time.

"Emma…" She gently runs her hand over what she assumes is Emma's back. The lump wriggles but remains quiet. "I'm sorry. Snapping at you-- I shouldn't have done that, even if I was upset, and I promise I'll try my best to never do it again. You deserve so much better."

After a short while, the blankets shift away to reveal a pair of large green eyes. The moment is almost comical as she peers out at Regina and Regina just stares back, brows knit.

"Why does talking about grandma make you upset?" The question is weary and child-like. Emma doesn't see them as her grandparents at all, but acting is so easy for her, and Regina is entirely gullible when it comes to her.

"She was not a very good person," the brunette finally admits, voice little more than a whisper. "She was not a good mother to me, Emma. She hurt me… much like some of your foster parents may have hurt you."

Understanding floods those big green eyes and for a moment, they just gaze sadly at each other, two abused souls with something tragic in common.

"Did you run away too?" Emma asks in a tiny voice.

"Not as soon as I should have," Regina says with a self-deprecating smile. "I don't want to be anything like her, Emma. I don't-- I  _ won't  _ fail as a mother the way she did. You deserve the best, and I want to give that to you. Can you… can you forgive me?"

Emma stares at her for a moment, gaze hesitant and thoughtful. To Regina's great relief, the blonde eventually crawls out of her blanket cocoon and climbs into her lap, offering up a hug that is warmly returned. She nestles her face into blonde hair and breathes in deeply of the new watermelon scented shampoo that the child is so fond of.

"Okay," Emma says simply, voice muffled into Regina's satin shirt.

"Okay," the brunette echoes, eyes fluttering shut as she cradles the child in her arms. After a moment, Emma lifts her head to peer up at her, making no move to escape the embrace.

"Was grandpa… was he bad too?"

The concern in those green eyes is so touching that Regina feels tears well up again. No one had ever shown any concern for her childhood before. No one had ever asked whether her parents had hurt her or not.

"No, baby. He was a very good man. He would have loved you."

Those green eyes light up. "Can we visit him tomorrow? Can I bring him flowers?"

Regina just laughs, letting her tears fall as Emma smiles shyly and helps to wipe her tears away with tiny, gentle fingers. "I think he'd like that very much."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, dear Swen! As my gift to you, I've just released new chapters for most of my fics in progress today. Please be sure to check them all out and, if you're feeling generous, leave me some comments with your thoughts. Happy Holidays and have an amazing New Year. ;)

"Hi, Dad."

Emma reaches out, settling her small hand over David's and giving his fingers a squeeze like she had done for the past few weeks. August smiles at her and slips outside, giving her a moment of privacy like usual. They've made it a habit of visiting the man in the hospital every so often, just to check in on his unchanging health. Emma had discovered that her mother volunteers there and leaves a little vase of flowers next to "John Doe's" bed once a week, so on rare occasions, she finds herself sitting in that little room with both her birth parents. Today, it's just her and David.

"Mom is doing good," she murmurs, remembering the smile on Mary Margaret's face when she had joined in her class's birdhouse project earlier that week after sneaking over to the fourth grade classroom out of boredom. Mrs. Potts had located her pretty quickly - the entire school seemed aware of the little blonde's affections for Miss Blanchard - and eventually allowed her to stay with Mary Margaret for the rest of the day.

"She doesn't know who either of us really are, but don't worry, I'll keep an eye on her while you're stuck here. I won't let anyone bother her."

Emma rests her upper body on the bed next to him, arms crossed and chin resting atop them. David is, as always, silent and unconscious.

"Three more months and I'll break the curse. I promise."

He breathes evenly through the tubes in his nose. Emma sighs, closing her eyes and just listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor, soaking in the comfort of his warm, steadying presence next to her.

 

Outside, August watches the going-ons of the quiet recovery wing of the hospital. Storybrooke is a small town so the hospital isn't very large or very busy either, nurses and a few doctors striding through the halls without much of a rush, either drinking coffee or leisurely reading from a clipboard about a patient with a minor ailment. It's rather peaceful, a stark contrast from the hospitals he's used to in the big city.

"Good morning, August," a soft, chipper voice greets. He turns and smiles sweetly as Mary Margaret approaches, pushing a small cart full of flowers in little vases. It's become a bit of a tradition of theirs, seeing each other at the hospital every other Sunday morning while Mary Margaret does her volunteer rounds. The mousy brunette had once inquired why Emma had such a fascination with the comatose John Doe and August had made up a story about how the man reminded Emma of one of her nicer foster parents in the past. Mary Margaret had smiled in sympathy and simply accepted it, and since Regina never brought up the subject to either of them, he assumed their visitations hadn't been reported to the Mayor.

"Morning, Mary Margaret. Emma's inside already."

The brunette nods happily and grabs one of the little vases, taking it into the room with quiet steps. Emma blinks open her eyes at the woman's entrance and gives a wry smile.

 _Hi, Mom,_ she thinks softly. "Hi, Miss Blanchard."

"Hello, Emma. How is our friend today?"

"The same." Emma shrugs, standing back up and giving David's hand a departing squeeze. "I should go soon. Gina's meeting me and August for brunch."

"Brunch," Mary Margaret repeats, laughing softly. She's never heard a five year old using that word before, but supposes she really shouldn't be surprised at the vocabulary of Regina's adopted child. "That sounds lovely. Have a great day then, Emma."

She moves to replace the flowers on the side table next to David's bed. Pausing at the doorway on her way out, Emma glances back at her mother and father, lips pursed.

"Someone should read to him," she says after a moment, green eyes brightening with an idea thanks to the reading sessions Mrs. Potts has started doing with her class. Mary Margaret hesitates, quirking a brow at her.

"Oh, Emma, I don't think he'd be able to hear us, sweetheart."

"I think he can. I called his name once and I think his fingers twitched."

"His name? How do you know his name?"

Emma just shrugs and gives the cutest grin she possibly can. "I dunno, he looked like a David to me. I like to call him David. Maybe you can read to him sometime?"

She doesn't wait for the woman's response, just gives a little departing wave and leaves the room. Bemused, Mary Margaret glances down at the patient's relaxed, sleeping face and tilts her head ever so slightly.

"David, huh?" she says softly. Maybe it's her imagination, but she thinks the corner of his lip twitches upwards ever so slightly. He gives no other indication of consciousness, so after a moment of admiring his handsome features, Mary Margaret shakes her head at herself and leaves the room with a chuckle.

 

It's a short ride from the hospital to the diner, August parking the yellow bug just by the sidewalk and then carrying a wriggling Emma inside. He's taken to carrying her around often, enjoying the rare chance he has to pick up his little sister with ease while he still can. Emma doesn't mind, though she still pretends to glare daggers at him whenever he laughs and calls her a 'monkey.'

"Gina!" Emma shouts happily, catching sight of the brunette sitting at their usual booth from where she's hanging like a sack of potatoes over August's shoulder. Regina smiles beautifully at them as they join her at the table, August gently depositing the blonde onto the bench next to Regina while minding her arm. She no longer has to wear a sling, but her arm is still encased in a cast for at least another week or two.

"Hello, darling," she says, smoothing down Emma's wild curls as the child adjusts her cast-laden arm in her lap and makes herself comfortable. "Did you and August have fun at the park?"

"Yeah," Emma replies cheerfully, leaning into Regina's side and swinging her legs energetically. Lying about their whereabouts has become second nature and she smoothly regales Regina with a story about how they played on the swingset and saw ducks at the pond. "Will you go with me next time, Gina? Can we feed the ducks?"

"Of course we can." She beams at the tiny blonde, then glances up at August, someone she's quickly growing to consider a friend. "I ordered your usual for you, I hope that's okay."

"That's perfect, thank you," he says, his smile as warm and charming as ever. Ruby arrives with their food a few minutes later, her smile flirty when she fills August's mug with fresh coffee before sauntering off. August's gaze follows her briefly before he cheerily digs into his food, stopping only when he feels Regina's calculating eyes on him. "What?"

"You should ask her out on a date," Regina notes, amused. Emma manages to keep her choking quiet, but August audibly coughs and thumps a fist against his chest when his food goes down the wrong pipe.

"What? Who, Ruby? I don't-- uh, that's not…"

"Oh, don't deny it," she chuckles lowly. "The both of you aren't exactly subtle with your yearning looks and doe-y eyes."

"We don't make eyes at each other," August complains feebly. Regina just pops an eyebrow and gives him a look. "Regina…"

"Ask her out, August. I know you're sticking around for more than just mine and Emma's sake."

He blushes, rolling his eyes a little when Emma bursts out laughing, and just grumbles something about Regina being bossy. The Mayor smirks and accepts the grumbles like compliments but doesn't push him on the matter anymore, their conversation turning to other matters like summer break and the new little waterpark playground that Regina has been pushing during council meetings. There had been little opposition when she'd said she would put some of her own funds towards the construction costs, wanting to have someplace to take Emma for fun when the weather grows hotter. At this point, the work is well underway and Regina is utterly pleased by the progress.

They bid August goodbye after brunch, Emma hopping into the black Mercedes just down the street and strapping herself into her car seat while Regina watches from the driver's seat, pleased. As is part of their recent Sunday ritual, they drive over to Game of Thorns and park on the curb, Emma darting into the little shop as soon as Regina opens the door for her.

"Afternoon," the owner greets them gruffly, paying little mind as a blonde head disappears into the rows of flower displays. He remains at the till reading his newspaper while Regina wades further into the shop, knowing she would find Emma lingering by the lilies like always.

"What do you think?" Regina asks, smiling as the girl hums and haws over the selection, hands behind her back as she rolls on the balls of her feet.

"Lilies," Emma says decisively after a moment, nodding and pointing at a bundle of lilies that are a soft speckled pink on the inside, the petals fading out into shades of orange and yellow. "I think Grandpa would like those ones."

"Excellent choice, my little princess." She brings them up to the counter and pays the owner, and then they're back in the car and making the now-familiar drive over to the cemetery. Emma contentedly watches the scenery go by as they cruise along the road and find a spot to park, then it's a peaceful walk over to the Mills family mausoleum, Emma carrying the flowers in her arm and both remaining respectfully quiet.

Unlocking the door and pushing it open, Regina allows Emma to go in first, following her closely as the blonde patters over to the stone coffin. She waits for Regina to lift her, and once she's braced against the brunette's hip, she easily sets the flowers down on the lid next to the bouquet from last week. The old flowers are wilted from the stuffy heat within the mausoleum and Regina removes them to toss away later.

"Hi, Grandpa," Emma says softly, reaching down to press her little hand against the bronze plaque with Henry Mills' name on it. Regina does the same, her fingers caressing the other end of the plaque in a tender touch.

"Hi, Daddy." She breathes out slowly, feeling Emma's arms encircling her shoulders as she snuggles closer. Emma is heavier now, having put on healthy weight that her once malnourished little body was lacking, and though Regina's arms protest, she just readjusts her hold on her and hugs her close, rewarded by soft little kisses on her cheeks. Emma doesn't normally give kisses - generally reserved in her displays of affection, especially in public - but she gives them freely whenever they visit Regina's father, perhaps sensing that the brunette needs the comfort during those vulnerable moments.

"Emma," Regina begins after a few moments of quiet, feeling the blonde hum in acknowledgement against her shoulder. "How would you feel about visiting the stables today?"

It's a subject that Regina has broached multiples times now, one that Emma continues to wearily decline due to her fear of the massive animals, especially now that she's in the body of a five year old. Standing next to Henry Senior's resting place now with that hesitant, almost hopeful look on Regina's face, however, Emma finds it hard to say 'no' like usual.

"I guess we could…" Emma mumbles, brows crinkling together. She doesn't understand why Regina has started asking her about it in these recent weeks; the brunette had never shown interest in horses or riding before.

"It will be fun," Regina promises her, that heartfelt smile spreading across her lips and chasing away Emma's fears. "I'll be with you the entire time, Emma. I promise it's not scary."

"Okay," the blonde eventually relents, unable to dash the woman's hopes. She didn't think Regina meant  _immediately,_ but the next thing she knows, they're driving down a dirt road towards the outskirts of town and coming up on a large, fenced in paddock next to a quaint stable. Regina must have planned to ask her since that morning, which explained why the brunette was wearing comfortable slacks and a casual blouse today instead of her more common dress clothes or tapered skirts.

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?" Regina asks as they pull up in the gravel parking lot just outside the stables, holding open the back door for Emma as the blonde unstraps herself and climbs out.

"No." Emma's lower lip juts out just a little, unable to hide her dismay. She receives a reassuring touch to the hair before she's led inside by the hand, straight down the pathway between the stalls of horses. Where once she found their size unnerving, now she's absolutely terrified. They're a lot bigger in person, twice as much now that she's half her original height.

"Gina?" Emma murmurs after a moment, feeling Regina's fingers tensing slightly in hers as they pause in the middle of the walkway. There's an odd look on the brunette's face that she can't quite place, one that she's never seen before. "Something wrong?"

After a moment's hesitation, those dark brown eyes blink and she refocuses, smiling down absently at Emma. "Sorry, darling. What was that?"

"Where'd you go?"

Regina pauses, bemused, then shakes her head and continues down the walkway. "I'm right here, sweetheart."

There's more to the story, Emma knows it, but she doesn't press her for now, figuring there will be plenty of time to get tidbits of information out of the brunette later about her obsession with horses and her connection to the stables.

"Mayor Mills?" a man steps out from the little office by the entrance to halt their progress once more, confusion on his features as Regina turns to frown at him.

"What?"

"Oh, I just-- uh, I didn't know you were coming in today?" He tilts his head, eyeing Emma curiously and figuring she must be the Mayor's newly adopted daughter, the one that has been the talk of the town since her arrival three months ago.

"I co-own the stables, I believe I can come in whenever I like," Regina says testily, a scowl marring her features at the strange look he gives Emma.

"O-of course, Ma'am. I was surprised is all. It's been…" His brows furrow, confusion flickering in his eyes before he blinks it away. "... a while."

Emma watches him, long used to those moments of fogginess that passes over most of the residents' faces whenever they stumble onto a thought that doesn't quite line up with the life they've lived on repeat for almost twenty eight years.

"Yes, well, I'm taking one of the horses out for a short ride today," Regina tells him curtly, giving him a look until he bobs his head in acknowledgement and disappears back into his office to leave them alone. Giving Emma's hand a little tug, she leads her again, surveying the available horses and considering which one they should take. When one younger stallion loops his head over the divider and whinnies excitedly at them, Emma actually shrieks and launches herself at Regina's leg, latching on with a death grip. The man running the stable peeks his head out from the office just enough to see the tiny blonde attached to the Mayor's leg like a baby koala.

"It's okay, Emma," Regina soothes, struggling to hold in her laughter as she stumbles a little and reaches down to set a hand against Emma's back. The child is literally off the ground, arms and legs wrapped around her. "He's just excited and wanted to say hello."

"I don't like that one," Emma warbles, immediately climbing up Regina like a monkey when the woman tries to detach her from her leg. Snugly held in her arms, she hides her face against Regina's shoulder, lifting her head just enough to shoot a dirty look at the horse. The animal wickers gleefully, lips pulling back to show off a huge mouthful of big teeth. Regina actually laughs out loud at that point, one hand rubbing up and down Emma's spine in a reassuring gesture.

"He is rather bratty, isn't he? We'll pick a different horse, alright, sweetheart?"

Nodding against the brunette's shoulder, Emma gives in to the childish urge and sticks her tongue out at the horse as they walk away from his stall. When Regina next stops, they're in front of a stall housing a dappled grey mare, the animal currently munching on a mouthful of grain and blinking slowly at them from underneath long lashes.

"Emma, this is Destiny," Regina says, coaxing the blonde into lifting her head. She shifts closer at the same time the mare shuffles towards them and gently swings her head over the gate, neck stretching in her attempt to sniff at them. Emma balls her fist into Regina's collar as the brunette reaches out with her free hand and allows the mare to press her velvety nose against her palm in greeting. "Put out your hand just like this, darling, and say hello, won't you?"

Weary, Emma unclenches her fist and holds out her open palm, wincing when the horse's head twitches in her direction. It takes them both a few moments of hesitation before Destiny finally pushes her nose against Emma's small hand, lipping gently at her as if sensing her fear and wishing to allay it.

"There, that's not so bad, is it?" Regina murmurs, adjusting her hold on Emma again and giving her a little hug as the girl giggles, tickled by the light fuzz of Destiny's muzzle against her wrist. "Let me saddle her up, and then we can go on a little ride, okay?"

"Kay." Placed back on the ground, Emma stands next to Destiny's stall as Regina jogs off to retrieve a suitable saddle from the tack room. The mare lowers her head to nudge playfully at Emma, sniffing loudly as if in hopes that the child has treats.

"Are you from the Enchanted Forest too?" Emma asks in a whisper, watching as the mare's ears flicker in her direction at the sound of her voice. Those big brown eyes just blink, lazy and content. "Guess not."

She rubs Destiny's cheeks, hesitantly scratching at the long bridge of her nose as the horse nibbles at the hem of her shirt. Regina returns a moment later and watches them fondly as she lets herself into the stall and saddles up the horse.

"Did you make a new friend?" she asks when she's done, red lips curved into a delighted smile when the mare has yet to leave Emma alone, happily lipping at her clothes and sniffing her blonde curls. Emma pats Destiny's nose once more, cheeks dimpling as she laughs.

"I think she likes me."

"I think so too."

Leading the horse out of the stall, Regina sets her hands on her hips and gives Emma a playful little grin. "It's time to get on the saddle. I'm going to lift you up first and then climb up behind you, okay?"

"Okay," Emma agrees, uncertainty in her big green eyes as she allows herself to be lifted up under the armpits and boosted onto the saddle. Regina's fingers hooking into her belt saves her from sliding right off the other side, and once the brunette is sure she's securely gripping onto the pommel, Regina sets her foot in the stirrup and easily climbs on behind Emma, as graceful and fluid as if she hadn't given up riding for decades.

"How's that? Is your arm alright?"

Emma readjusts her butt a little, settling in against Regina and holding onto the pommel with both hands. Part of her upper arm and forearm are still securely encased in the cast, but she's regained full strength and mobility in her hand and wrist and it hasn't bothered her in weeks. "I'm fine, Gina."

"If you feel any discomfort at any point, you let me know and we'll stop, alright?"

"Kay." Emma tilts her head back to beam at the brunette, receiving a little kiss atop her hair before they get going. Regina's arms loop loosely around her, holding the reins lightly yet with full control as she coaxes Destiny forward, stepping out into the sunshine and making their way to the trail entrance.

"How did you learn to ride?" Emma asks after a few minutes once she's gotten accustomed to the bumpiness of Destiny's slow, plodding steps on the trails through the woods.

"My father used to own stables. He taught me to ride when I was young." Regina's voice softens with affection at the memory, a little smile gracing her lips as she tugs on the reins and gets Destiny to take them down along a peaceful little stream. Birds flutter through the trees and a few insects buzz their way across the stagnant stream of water, zipping past them and disappearing into the dry grass. "I've loved riding ever since. I thought perhaps you might like to learn as well. You could have your very own horse here, and we could come every weekend, if you'd like."

The look in Regina's eyes is absolutely hopeful, wishing to share her passion with someone important to her, and Emma can't stop the wry smile from splitting her lips. She isn't so afraid of the animals anymore, at least not the calm ones like Destiny, and supposes it wouldn't be so bad to go riding on the weekends.

"Okay."

Regina's eyes glitter with delight and she squeezes Emma to her, feeling the girl lean back against her and settle a small hand over Regina's on the reins.

They spend about an hour wandering the trails, enjoying the view and simply soaking in the sun and the good weather. They find a couple apple trees near a clearing by the stream and take a short break to allow Destiny a drink while Regina plucks two of the ripest apples from a tree, perching on an old fallen log with Emma.

"The apples from your tree are better," Emma say after a single bite from the red fruit, which earns her a warm chuckle from the brunette.

Another hour later finds them back at the stables, Destiny automatically heading back towards her stall so that Regina can unsaddle her and clean her up. Emma gets to help brush down the gentle mare, and when they're done, Regina teaches her how to properly feed a few treats to the animals, setting a few sugar cubes on the flat of her palm.

"You have to make sure to keep your fingers flat together so that she doesn't accidentally bite you," Regina says softly as Destiny snuffles Emma's hand, snatching up the sugar cubes and licking at her palm in search for more. The blonde giggles fiercely, wiping her hand clean on her jeans and sharing a grin with the brunette before they decide to go home shortly thereafter. It's in the car on the ride home that Emma finally voices a question that's been nagging at her since their arrival, not having forgotten the odd look on Regina's face when they'd first entered the stables.

"Gina?"

"Yes, darling?"

"How come the man said you haven't been to the stables in a long time?"

"Oh." Regina hums under her breath, eyes on the road as they finally get off the dirt path and back onto Main Street. "I haven't really had a reason to go there until recently."

"Why?"

"Well, I thought you might enjoy it."

Emma shakes her head 'no,' blonde curls bouncing as Regina glances at her in the rearview mirror. "Why didn't you go before?"

"Because… something sad happened to me at the stables a long time ago, so I never really wanted to go back."

"What happened?"

 _Be honest,_ August's voice echoes in her mind, something she's been repeating to herself often in these past weeks. There is so much she can't say, so much she can't tell the girl, but she's been doing her best to give watered-down versions of the truth in hopes that it would encourage Emma to open up just as much with her.

"Well," Regina murmurs, taking a steadying breath as she feels green eyes staring intently at her from the back seat. "Someone I loved very much passed away in the stables."

"They died?"

She glances in the rearview and sees wide eyes staring back.

"Yes, he did."

"Was it Grandpa?" Emma asks, never having been told how Regina's father had died. Regina's shoulders stiffen a little but she shakes her head.

"No, sweetheart. It was someone else." She knows the next question that Emma will ask is  _who,_ so she forges ahead and says, softly, "His name was Daniel."

"Daniel," Emma repeats, yet another thing to add to her list of questions, not answers. "You loved him?"

"Yes, I did. I still do." With suspiciously shiny eyes, Regina turns her head to smile briefly back at the blonde. "I think he would have loved you very much if he could be here today."

Emma goes quiet, mulling over all the new information as they finally arrive on Mifflin Street and pull up in their driveway. Hopping out once Regina opens the door for her, Emma plods around the side of the house for the path leading to the backyard. Baffled, Regina follows without question, watching as the little blonde heads straight for the apple tree in the yard. Wordlessly, Emma points up at a red fruit hanging from its branches. Regina pulls it down for her and hands it over, smiling a little as the child then scampers over to the back porch and settles down on the bench.

"Yours are better," Emma mumbles, taking a big bite out of the fruit. Regina chuckles and sits down next to her, heart warming when the child immediately snuggles up against her side.

"You showed me the stables even though it makes you sad," Emma points out after a few minutes of peaceful silence, punctuated only by the soft crunch of her teeth in the apple. Regina nods slowly, one arm wrapped around Emma while the other hand plucks absently at the horse hairs on her slacks.

"I did."

"How come?"

"I thought you might enjoy it," Regina replies, furrowing a brow. "I wanted to make you happy."

"But I don't want you to be sad." Emma furrows her brow too, peering up at Regina with concern until the brunette smiles softly and rubs away the little indent between her eyebrows with a gentle finger.

"I could never be sad when I'm with you, Emma." Brown eyes glaze over with unshed tears again, longing for a life long lost, yet the hurt is only a fraction of what it used to be, soothed by the presence of a new love in her life. "You make me so happy that I forget about the sadness."

She hopes to coax a smile out of her, but Emma looks at her with so much empathy and sorrow that she's a little startled by the wisdom and understanding in those green eyes. Sometimes, she can't fathom how Emma can seem to understand her so deeply.

"I'm sorry Daniel died," she says in a tiny voice, her apple forgotten.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

Emma fiddles with the remainder of her apple, picking out a few seeds from the exposed core and flicking them out towards the yard, some bouncing off the wooden planks of the porch. Regina's eyes follow the little seeds, no doubt remembering their locations so that she can sweep them away later with a broom. The thought almost makes Emma laugh; how well she knows the brunette now, after three months of comfortable domesticity.

"Was Daniel good to you?"

The question doesn't surprise Regina anymore. Emma has asked the same of every person she's ever mentioned from her past, and has grown protective of her whenever anyone in town approaches them. Warmth envelopes her heart at the way the girl continues to care about her in ways that no one has in a very long time.

"Yes, he was. He was one of the only people who was good to me." A slow, shuddering breath escapes her chest as Daniel's loving smile appears in her mind's eye. How gentle he had been, his embrace warm and comforting. It's been so long since his death, so long since she's felt truly and selflessly loved. "He was the last person to… to love me and fight for me."

When she tilts her chin down, Emma is staring at her with an unreadable look on her face, brows pinched together, lips pursed, and eyes swimming with a million conflicting thoughts.

"Emma?"

"You're wrong."

Emma blinks fiercely, nostrils flared and cheeks flushed, angry for this woman who has been left devoid of love or support for so many decades. She's not stupid - she can put together the pieces, stories of a mother who abused her, stories of people who loved her and were taken away from her, dead in the Enchanted Forest, no one left to fight for her. She doesn't know the entire backstory, knows there's so much she doesn't know about why Regina would curse her parents and the entire kingdom, but she does know one thing: Evil Queens were the princesses who were never saved.

"Sweetheart--"

"I'd fight for you, Gina." Her voice cracks just a little, thick with the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her little body. She's a broken soul, just like her, desperate for love that she never got in life, yearning for something that was always just out of reach. "I love you."

"Oh, Emma…" Brown eyes blur with tears, red lips parted in disbelief because for all that they have taken to each other so affectionately these past couple months, that phrase has never been uttered before, not until now.

Emma drops the apple core and twists herself around to get her arms around Regina, hugging her as tightly as she can and ignoring the twinge of discomfort from her injury. Just as Regina is weak when it comes to her, she is equally as weak to the brunette's tears, wanting nothing more than to cheer her up and make her smile again. She feels herself lifted up a little as Regina hugs her back tightly, pulling her into her lap and pressing her face to the side of Emma's head to hide her tears, though her body trembles with a telltale sob nonetheless.

"Don't cry, Gina," Emma murmurs, wrapping her arms snugly around the woman's neck. August, her parents, the curse - none of it takes precedence in her mind right now, not when the woman who has cared for her and loved her with all her heart these past months is in tears. "I love you and I'll always fight for you, I promise."

"I love you too, baby," Regina whispers, eyes fluttering shut as she buries her face against blonde curls and feels the warmth and fierce protectiveness radiating from the child in her arms. Her chest aches with feelings long forgotten, unused to the sheer amount of emotions flowing through her at this very moment, surprise and vulnerability and devotion all mashed together with the disbelief of how this could possibly be happening to her, how she could have been given one more chance. It hurts in a way, overwhelming and so very unexpected, but for the first time in a long time... she feels at peace.


	8. Chapter 8

Autumn brings with it brisk winds and the turning of the leaves, shades of red and orange and yellow spreading through town and fluttering across the streets. Emma and Regina grow ever closer, Mary Margaret and David remain a steady and unchanging presence, and August and Ruby start dating much to Granny's great delight. ("Pay up," she'd snickered to Regina when they finally saw the couple having dinner together, two weeks later than Regina had bet they'd get together. The mayor had scowled and slapped the fifty dollar bill into Eugenia's hand before strutting off, refusing to listen to the old woman's victorious cackling.)

One slow friday afternoon when Emma's waiting on the blacktop for Ruby to pick her up after school, she comes across a card. Or, more specifically, there's a playing card jammed between the wooden planks of the bench she always sits on every weekday. The backing is a pattern of red and white checkers, and the front side is a queen of spades. What stops her from simply tossing the card to the pavement is the loopy handwriting written on it in black sharpie.

_Beneath the hospital with a skeleton key, the Queen traps Beauty from her Beast._

The back of her neck prickles and she shivers, sliding the card into the breast pocket of her blazer before surreptitiously looking around. There's no one suspicious lurking nearby, just the usual parents chatting together by the fence while the children wear themselves out on the little jungle gym out front. She can see Ruby's bright red convertible pulling up in the pickup zone and quickly gathers her bag and lunchbox, eager to be in the young woman's presence. She thinks they might be good friends in the future - once she's back to her own age, anyway - but for now, Ruby is comfort and safety, and she surprises the brunette by all but sprinting to the car.

"Hey, kiddo," Ruby says, grinning as she stretches over the center console to pop open the door for Emma from the inside. "What's the rush?"

"Can we go see August?" she blurts out, dumping her things to the floor and strapping herself into the carseat in record time. (Regina had nearly popped a blood vessel when she'd noticed the lack of a carseat in Ruby's car during her first month of babysitting; the red convertible now houses a rather permanent carseat in the passenger side.)

Popping a brow, Ruby fishes her phone out from the cup holder and pulls up her boyfriend's number with an agreeable shrug. "Sure, hun." August picks up on the third ring and the bright smile on Ruby's face is too adorable as the brunette absently twirls a strand of hair around her finger. "Hey, August, Emma wants to see you. How about the three of us go for ice cream at the pier? … Yup. Sounds good. See you there!"

Dropping the phone back in the cup holder, Ruby winks an eye at her little blonde charge as she starts up the car. "We're off to see August!"

They end up parking just behind August's (Emma's) yellow bug on the street, walking together over to the neat little row of boutiques and cafes that lead onto the pier and boating docks. There's a little gelato place there that Emma adores and though she'd normally be delighted at the thought of free ice cream (the perks of being a child), she needs to talk to August alone and conveys as much when she frowns at him and tilts her head.

"Hey, Rubes," August says, and he tugs Ruby away just a few steps, stealing a kiss before murmuring that he needs a minute alone to speak with Emma. The brunette looks baffled but nods, going ahead to order their ice cream cones from the counter while August and Emma sit down at a corner table, heads tilted together. "What's up?"

"Someone left this for me at the school." Emma pulls the card from her pocket and quickly slides it over, watching as he reads it over twice and then pockets it. "What do you think?"

"Sounds like someone's being held prisoner under the hospital," August admits, pursing his lips. For a moment it looks like he's just sucked a lemon - he'd be lying if he said Regina hasn't grown on him these last few months - but he evens out his expression and sighs. "I should probably investigate. Do you think the skeleton key--"

"Are the same as those skull keys I saw in Regina's office? Probably. So you have to get your hands on those keys and break into the basement of the hospital. And then… break someone out."

August pales ever so slightly. "Yeah, this sounds a lot harder than the sleuthing I've been doing so far."

"What, aren't you glad that something exciting is finally happening?" Emma asks with forced amusement, even though neither she nor August are very amused. He frowns at her and runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm guessing you don't know who left you the card." Emma shakes her head. "So we don't know who wants 'Beauty' rescued and returned to the 'Beast'." Again, another shake of the head. "And I'm doing this, why?"

"Beauty and the Beast," Emma says with a shrug. "If the story is the same as the Disney movie, then you're rescuing Belle. She's a good guy, right? She's not secretly a villain in real life?"

"Wouldn't know, I never heard of her, even in the Enchanted Forest. But if you think I should go break her out, I'll give it a go."

Emma's expression falls just a little. "I mean… we should, right? We shouldn't wait and leave her down there. Just… be careful."

August quirks a smile but his attention is drawn away when Ruby approaches, three ice cream cones balanced in her hands. She tilts her head in a silent question and he motions for her to join them, smiling easily as if they weren't just having a conversation about rescuing a prisoner.

 

Getting his hands on the skeleton keys is surprisingly easy. That weekend, August volunteers to babysit Emma while Regina catches up on some work in the office. They show up at town hall with Granny's takeout in hand to keep Regina company during her lunch break, at which point Emma announces, quite bluntly, "Gina, I gotta pee."

Regina takes Emma down the hall to the washroom and August snags the keys up from the drawer Emma said they'd be in, tying them tightly together with a rubber band so that they don't jingle and stuffing them into Emma's backpack. After lunch, they bid the mayor a goodbye and then make their way to the hospital, where August leaves Emma to her usual 'visitation' with David (it's Saturday, not Sunday, but the nurses are so used to seeing them on the weekend that they don't pay too much attention) while he searches out the basement with the skeleton keys transferred into the pocket of his leather jacket. There are a few restricted doors that could possibly lead downwards and he eventually settles on sussing out the only one that has a keypad panel.

His lurking pays off eventually when nurse Ratched punches in a four digit code and slips through the door, and though he wasn't close enough to see the exact numbers, he can make a pretty good guess of the combination.

"Emma's fake birthdate," he mutters to himself with a breathy laugh, inputting the numbers 1002 for October the second. "Of course."

A soft beep and a flash of green has the door clicking open for him. Slipping in, he tiptoes down the staircase and tries to peek as carefully as he can onto the next landing. Nurse Ratched has her back to him, digging through some files in the metal cabinet across the room. Nearly forgetting to breath, August makes the split second decision and tiptoes the rest of the way into the room, breezing for the hallway around the corner and out of sight, praying all the while that she does not turn around and spot him. When no voice yells at him to stop, he hurries along the way with a slow and shaky exhale.

Gods, he is not made for this 007 spy shit.

He turns the corner and comes upon a row of what looks like asylum doors - thick, heavy, with bars covering a tiny window that peeks into each padded room. Suppressing a shiver, he peers into each, hissing out, "Belle?"

At the third door, he can see a young woman jerk up from where she sits curled up in the corner of the bed. Her wide blue eyes find his after a moment of disoriented blinking and then she's slowly uncurling herself, leaning towards him as if unsure if he's actually there or not.

"Hello?" she says hoarsely, her voice thick with an accent. August pulls the keyring from his pocket and starts trying them all on the door.

"Are you Belle?" he asks, trying to keep the rattling of the keys as quiet as possible.

"Yes," she says after a moment, sitting just on the edge of the bed now. "Who are you?"

"A friend," he mutters, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at himself because _really_ , that's the most cryptic answer when you're rescuing someone, but apparently that's what his mouth has decided to go with. "I'm gonna get you out of here and then… uh… well, we'll reunited you with your… Beast."

"My what?" she looks utterly confused but she creeps closer nonetheless, eyes hopeful as August continues to try every skeleton key on the door's lock.

"How long have you been in here?"

"I…" Her eyes go unfocused for a moment before she blinks, dazed. "I… don't know. A long time, I think."

"Yeah, try twenty eight y--" The key in his hand twists all the way and he almost jumps in surprise as the lock pops open. "Abracadabra."

The heavy door swings open and Belle quickly scampers out into the hall next to him, eager to escape what has been her own personal prison for as long as she can really remember. They both just kind of stare at each other for a moment, uncertain of what to do, until August finally makes a signal for her to keep quiet and follow him back down the hall. Maybe it's dumb luck but nurse Ratched is gone, likely back up the stairs after having retrieved what she needed from the filing cabinet, and they have a clear path back up to the hospital.

"Quick," he whispers, hurrying up to the exit and opening it just a gap to peek out before fully slipping out from behind the door. Belle slides out after him and they both make a beeline down the corridor, August leading the way to the wing where the comatose David is kept. He can almost feel sweat dripping down between his shoulderblades as his steps quicken, afraid that they'll get caught at any moment, so by the time they reach the room he nearly slumps against the wall with a heavy exhale of relief.

"I'm not cut out for this sneaky spy shit," he says, and Belle gasps a little when she sees five year old Emma standing there with one eyebrow arched.

"Language!" she complains feebly, but August just shakes his head and drops down into the visitor's chair while Emma leans against David's bed.

"You're Belle?" Emma asks, looking amused. Belle fiddles with the hem of her hospital gown and nods, trying not to stare rudely at David's comatose form. "Cool. Who's your Beast?"

"My what? Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"She doesn't know?" Emma directs at August, who just shrugs and shakes his head. Turning back to Belle, she says, "What do you remember?"

"Um… Not much, honestly. I just…" Her brows furrow and she grimaces. "I know my name is Belle… And, um… yeah."

"Do you know who locked you up in the first place?"

"I… no. I've been in there for longer than I can remember."

Emma and August exchange a look of equal distraught, because what the hell are they supposed to do with an amnesiac abductee? They don't know why Regina had this poor woman locked up in the first place but they definitely don't want to know what will happen if she sees her wandering the streets.

"What do we do?" August asks aloud, and Belle immediately withers in place.

"Please don't put me back in there."

"We won't," August promises her, sighing. "Emma, we need to get her out of here. Maybe I can hide her at the BnB for a while, at least until we figure out who the Beast is supposed to be."

"Yeah, sure."

"Alright, let's move. I don't know when Regina's going to leave the office today."

They end up leaving through one of the side 'exit only' doors, hurrying down one of the lesser used streets and speed walking towards the back alley leading to the BnB. They're just passing by Gold's pawnshop when the suspicious man himself does a doubletake at the window and proceeds to bursts out of the side door of what looks to be the back room, eyes nearly bulging in shock.

"Belle?" he gasps out, more emotion in his voice than either of them have ever heard. "You're… you're alive?"

It's been months since either Emma or August have had any direct contact with the man and they just exchange a look of confusion before August scoots forward, putting himself between Gold and Belle.

"You know each other?" he asks warily, to which Gold sneers and pushes him aside with the hand not gripping his cane.

"Of course I know her. Belle, don't you remember me?"

Belle, to her credit, gives him a long and cautious look over before cocking her head to one side, brows knit and blue eyes narrowed in a squint. "I'm sorry… I don't, but… I feel like I should?"

"It's me," he pleads softly, hands outstretched, not quite touching her without her permission but pleading nonetheless. "Belle, it's me, Rumple."

"Rumple…" August breathes out, the air leaving his lungs all at once because _of course_ the only other person who has his memories is the bloody Dark One. This is not how he'd envisioned his first meeting with the infamous Dark One to go.  " _Rumplestiltskin?_ "

Gold's eyes cut to him in a glare, but quickly fall back on Belle as she flashes him a soft, apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, but I don't… I don't really remember anything. Were we friends?"

An uncharacteristic flicker of hurt flashes in his eyes before he gives a wry smile. "Ah, friends… Yes, something like that. Oh, Belle, what in the world are you wearing? Come inside, let me get you some shoes and some proper clothes."

"Oh." Belle looks to August, uncertain. She doesn't seem to fear Gold at all, simply unsure if she should ditch August's plans to bring her to the BnB. "He seems to know me. Perhaps it would be best if I went with him?"

August gives Gold a suspicious look, stopping only when Emma tugs on his sleeve and pulls him down to whisper, "Beauty and the Beast, August. Seems like Rumplestiltskin is the Beast, doesn't it?"

He can't really disagree. The Dark One is certainly known for being a monster. It seems unlikely that he would so genuinely fake that look of concern and hurt in his eyes, too, so perhaps he really does know Belle.

"If that's what you want, Belle," August says, which has Gold relaxing a little, his white knuckled grip on his cane softening. Belle gives a warmer smile and a quick nod.

"He knows who I am, he may be able to help me remember. Thank you for getting me out of there, mister…?"

"August." He tips his head, setting a hand on Emma's shoulder to start steering her away. "Alright, then. Take care, Belle."

She waves goodbye, allowing Gold to gently take her by the elbow and lead her into the store.

"Where were you all this time?" the man asks softly as they disappear through the door. August and Emma step back out onto main street and head for the yellow Bug again.

"The Dark One," August says heavily, one hand rubbing at his face. "Should've known he'd be here. Of course things had to get even more complicated."

"Why would the Dark One want the curse to be broken?" Emma murmurs, hands buried deep in her pockets as they slowly shuffle along.

"I don't know. He was the one who told your parents that you were the prophesied Savior. He was the reason we had the wardrobe ready."

They both fall quiet at the memories of that. Snow was supposed to be the one to go through with her, but Emma had been born early and August had been the one to flee with the infant in his arms when David fell in battle trying to protect a bedridden Snow from Regina's guards.

Emma wonders what would have happened to her if they'd never made it to the wardrobe that day. Would Regina have killed her if she knew she was the Savior?

Would Regina have taken her for her own?

Emma shakes the thought away and climbs into the Bug. When August is settled into the driver's seat, she takes the skeleton keys from his pocket and shoves them back safely into her bag.

"We have to sneak these back into her office before she realizes they're gone."

August looks at her for a moment, both frowning slightly, then he gives a wry little smile and starts the car. What a messy predicament they've made for themselves.

 

When they return to town hall under the guise of convincing Regina to finish up early and go to dinner with them, Regina is the one who unknowingly gives them the chance they need.

"Can I speak with you outside for a moment, August?" she says as soon as they arrive. Emma plops down onto the couch with her bag in her arms, so August smiles and steps outside the office with Regina while the little blonde quickly returns the skeleton keys.

"What's up?" He leans against the wall outside, arms comfortably folded across his chest.

"Well, as you know, Emma's birthday is coming up soon," she begins with an uncharacteristic twiddle of her thumbs. For all that she's changed due to Emma's presence in her life, she is still as uncomfortable as ever when it comes to asking people for help. "I want her to have the best birthday party ever, and was hoping you might be available to help me set things up on the day…"

A brow lifts in surprise, but August quickly smooths it over with a smile. "I'd be happy to help out. What do you need?"

Regina's eyes light up with excitement as she presses her hands together. "I've already sent out invitations to the parents of all her classmates, Granny has agreed to make the food for the party, and I plan on baking the birthday cake myself. I've ordered a bouncy castle to be delivered from the store and am looking into hiring a clown of some sort. I just need help putting up all the decorations and setting up the tables once I get Emma out of the house that morning, as I'd like it to be a surprise. Perhaps you could ask Ruby if she's available to distract Emma--"

"Whoa." August laughs, a hand held up to halt her rapid-fire chatter. "Easy there, momma bear. Looks like you've got it all planned out. You might want to pick something other than a clown, though. Those things are creepy. As for getting Emma out of the house and getting the place set up, we'll be there, don't worry."

The smile she gives him is brilliant, so genuine and excited that August finds it harder and harder to remember that she's the enemy sometimes. The line is blurred these days, especially when he gets to kiss his girlfriend and visit his father and give his sister piggyback rides. He can barely comprehend that everything is going to change once the curse breaks in another month and a half.

"Gina," Emma's high-pitched little voice whines from the door, moments before she pushes it open and sticks her head out to peer at them. "I'm hungry."

"Is that so?" Regina strides over to her and scoops her up in one swift movement, hugging the little girl and pressing a kiss to her cheek as Emma scrunches her face and tries to wriggle away, knowing that they have an audience.

"Gina!" she whines.

The brunette laughs as Emma reaches up and pinches her nose shut in revenge. "Okay, okay! I yield, darling. Let's go feed you, hmm? Do you want Granny's tonight?"

"Yep." Emma nods. "You coming too, Auggie?"

August narrows his eyes at the loathed petname, moreso when Regina smirks at him. "Oh, I'm coming. And I'll also tell Ruby to serve you something green and leafy."

"Gina, I can get a grilled cheese right?" she immediately asks the brunette, batting her lashes. Regina glances at August as he squints warningly at her and she chuckles darkly. She may have tiptoed around him in the past, but now she dares to think of the man as her friend, which means he is no longer safe from her sass.

" _Auggie,_ dear, you know I'll always take Emma's side." Turning her head to bump her nose against Emma's, Regina's smirk turns into a happy grin. "Of course you can have a grilled cheese, sweetheart."

She grabs her purse and continues to carry Emma out of town hall with August trudging along behind them, pretending to mope and brood. With her arms around Regina's neck and her chin resting on the brunette's shoulder, Emma catches August's eye and proudly flips him off. His face contorts in his attempts to hold in his laughter at the sight of a five year old wagging her middle finger at him, and despite his best efforts, a loud snort escapes him.

"Something funny, mister Booth?" Regina teases back at him as Emma quickly retracts her middle finger and snuggles herself tighter against Regina as if she were innocent. August sticks his tongue out at her in time for the brunette to actually turn her head to look back at him. "You know, when you first came to my town, I only agreed to take on one child, not two."

"Admit it, you'd be bored if I was gone," he chuckles, lengthening his strides to catch up to her side again. Regina doesn't deign to answer him, but she can't stop the grin from stretching her lips and August takes it as a victory.

Granny's is getting busy when they arrive in time for the dinner crowd, but their usual booth is ready and waiting for them as always. At first it had been because Ruby and Granny would purposely try to keep that table reserved for them if possible, but eventually the entire town caught on to the fact that they always sat there, and thus no one ever claimed that table anymore.

"There are my favourite people!" Ruby crows as soon as they walk in, winking at August and bouncing up to Regina with a sweet smile. She doesn't fear Regina like she used to, but the respect is still there as she politely makes a gesture with her arms. In an agreeable mood, Regina allows the younger brunette to take Emma and sling the girl over her shoulder in a mock hug with a laugh before leading them to their booth.

"What's it gonna be for our little princess today, hmm?" Ruby asks, letting Emma squirm and wiggle in her grip for a moment longer before relenting and setting her down gently on the bench next to the mayor.

"Grilled cheese!" the blonde declares gleefully.

"Your wish is my command, your highness. Madame Mayor?"

"My usual, please."

Ruby nods, not even bothering with her notepad. These three almost always order the same few things every time they come here. "And your usual too, August?"

"Yep, thank you."

The brunette smiles and skips off to relay their orders and prepare their unchanging drink preferences. Emma sets her eyes on the jukebox and grins, patting at Regina's arm and pointing with her other hand.

"Can I have some money for the jukebox, Gina?"

"Of course, sweetheart." Regina hands over a few coins and watches the little blonde scurry for the jukebox in the back next to the hallway. August grins and leans in, lowering his voice.

"So, have you decided what to replace the clown with?"

"I haven't thought about it. There aren't very many things to choose from; this is a small town, remember."

"How about a magician?"

 

Emma leans up against the machine, hands pressed flat to the glass as she peruses the options available to her. It's all old music, stuff that's likely been in this jukebox for the entire twenty seven - almost twenty eight - years that Storybrooke has been frozen in time.

"Putting on some music?" a voice asks sweetly, and Emma twists her head around to see Mary Margaret stepping out from the hallway bathroom. Emma beams, holding up her handful of coins.

"Yup! Gina gave me money."

Mary Margaret smiles, leaning against the side of the machine as Emma nibbles on her lower lip and returns to eyeing the options. The girl has grown on her immensely ever since her arrival and she can't help but feel almost motherly towards the beautiful little blonde with familiar green eyes. The beautiful little blonde that has somehow brought love and laughter into the lonely mayor's life. "Can't decide?"

Emma shook her head.

"Maybe you could pick something for Regina?"

Emma quirks a brow at her. "I dunno what she likes."

"Maybe one of the song titles sounds suitable." She chuckles, motioning towards the titles on display. "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun?"

Emma wrinkles her nose and looks them over again. Thriller, Like a Virgin, Living on a Prayer, Sweet Child of Mine, Hungry Like the Wolf (that last one makes her think of Ruby and she snickers, much to Mary Margaret's bemusement.) After a moment, she notices the song at the bottom of the list and points a finger.

"You sure?" Mary Margaret asks. Emma nods, so she shows her where to insert the coins and then presses the corresponding button for her. The machine whirs softly for a moment, readjusting itself to play the right record. Once the song starts to drift playfully from the jukebox, Mary Margaret and Emma exchange a grin. "Good choice, Emma."

"Think Gina will like it?"

Mary Margaret crouches down and smooths a hand over Emma's wild blonde curls, smiling softly at the way Emma nearly glows with delight. "I think she'll love it."

Mary Margaret glances over to the booth Regina and August are currently occupying and freezes up under the suspicious glare being shot her way. At least one thing is certain - Regina's venomous dislike of her will never change. Quickly retracting her hand, she clears her throat and makes an awkward little tilting motion with her head.

"Why don't you go back to your booth and see how she likes the song, huh?"

"Kay. Thanks, Miss Blanchard."

Emma rocks on her heels for a moment, looking as if she might like to hug her, but then thinks better of it and scampers back to the booth, climbing up next to Regina with the biggest grin on her face.

"Gina! Do you like the song?"

Dark eyes softening only for the blonde, Regina smiles. "It's very nice. What song is it?"

" _Only You_ by Yazoo." She turns, distracted, when Ruby swoops in and slides a grilled cheese sandwich in front of her, the smell of cheese hot and delicious. Mary Margaret passes by their booth and gives Emma a little smile before settling at the counter to speak with Ruby.

"What were you and Miss Blanchard talking about?" Regina asks casually, which is really less casual than she seems to think it is because Emma and August both exchange a knowing look and blink at her.

"She was helping me pick a song."

"And she suggested this song?"

"Nuh uh." Emma plucks up one triangle of her sandwich, licking at the melted cheese dripping from one corner. "She said I should pick something for you."

A forkful of salad and grilled chicken halfway to her mouth, Regina pauses. "For me?"

"Yup. Only you." Emma chows down, leaning briefly into Regina's side when the brunette melts a little bit in place, settling an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. August takes a long, slow drag from his bottle of root beer and tries not to watch the way Regina's eyes soften and the way her lips press together in a wobbly smile. He's growing fond of her - knows it, knows Emma is too, and knows that they're both royally fucked - but tries not to pay attention anyway, because maybe if he doesn't acknowledge it, it won't be true.

When they're finished their meals, Regina goes up to the counter to pay, her posture stiff as she waits next to Mary Margaret while Ruby finishes up with another customer. She can feel the younger brunette peeking constantly at her and has to stifle a sigh.

"Didn't your mother teach you it's impolite to stare?"

Mary Margaret winces, her eyes glazing over momentarily at the thought of her deceased mother - she remembers a hard and unyielding woman who treated her like her own personal project, "Love is weakness, dear," - and vengeful glee shines in Regina's eyes at the flicker of pain on Mary Margaret's face, to have given the woman an ugly replacement for a mother.

"I'm sorry, Madame Mayor," she says timidly, dropping her gaze. Regina scoffs and turns as Ruby finally arrives behind the cash register, but the sound is not as aggressive as it used to be, missing that sharp edge of hatred that Mary Margaret had never understood but became accustomed to hearing.

A flicker of red catches her eye, and she looks back up to see a little red dot hovering on Regina's crisp black blazer.

Regina has only enough time to grunt in surprise before Mary Margaret throws herself on top of her and the window behind them shatters.

Gunshots tend to be overly dramatic in movies. Sniper shots, in particular, are a lot less obvious in real life. Patrons of the diner jump in surprise as the window shatters, glass tinkling to the ground. Regina shouts out furiously as she stumbles and crashes to the floor, Mary Margaret a sudden deadweight on top of her. August is already out of the booth and moving towards them while Ruby hurries to check the window, but the rest of the diner only watches from their seats, baffled.

"Get off me, Blanchard!" Regina snarls, shoving Mary Margaret sideways and half onto August's lap where the man has dropped to his knees next to them. It's then that she realizes there's something dark and sticky smeared across her chest - and at August's sharp gasp, she looks sideways to see blood spreading quickly across Mary Margaret's torso as the woman lays limp and unconscious in August's arms.

Ruby shouts something from where she stands frozen at the window while August shouts for someone to call 911. And then there's Emma, tumbling out of the booth with her eyes wide open in terror, staring at them - no, staring at _Mary Margaret_ \- and when she opens her mouth, it's to scream,

" _Mom!"_

 

Mary Margaret's blood is dry and almost black where it has stained into her shirt and blazer. Regina tries not to think about it, but the stains almost feel _heavy_ , like a prominent weight where they rest on her chest. It doesn't help the added ache within her, the painful clench of her thudding heart every time she thinks back to that moment when Emma finally said "mom" and it wasn't directed at her. It takes considerable effort to push the pain away and keep it at bay; she refuses to break down and cry in public.

Graham has been taking statements for hours from every patron in the diner while Mary Margaret remains in surgery and now he stands with her and Ruby in the corridor of the hospital, speaking in hushed voices. Regina is barely listening to him; all she can focus on is Emma, who had cried herself into exhaustion earlier and now lays curled up asleep in August's arms in the waiting room down the hall.

"I'm telling you, I saw his face and I've never seen him before," Ruby insists, to which Graham pushes a hand through his hair and exhales in frustration.

"But why would a complete stranger come into Storybrooke to shoot Regina?"

Regina finally looks up at the sound of her name. From the many statements, Graham had already concluded that the bullet had been meant for her. A few others had seen the red dot flickering on Regina's chest, and Mary Margaret had jumped between her and the window only milliseconds before the shot.

"Yes, Sheriff, why would a complete stranger come into my town and try to kill me?"

"I'm working on it, Regina," he says lowly, eyes flickering away when she glares at him for his use of her first name. She's revoked his rights to any familiarity and he can do little else but wince every time she reminds him of the fact. "There's a lot for me to look into…"

"Well you covered this room," she snarks, lips pulling into a forced sneer, her eyes dark and angry. "I suggest you branch out."

Graham sucks on his teeth and walks away without another word, brows pinched with frustration. Ruby glances Regina over again and grimaces, slipping off the sweater she'd grabbed to cover her waitress shirt on the way to the hospital and offering it out.

"Why don't you change out of those clothes?" she suggests softly, eyeing the bloodstains. When Regina's eyes immediately flicker back towards the direction of Emma and August, Ruby touches her arm. "Hey, come on. You don't want her to see the blood, right?"

Working her jaw, Regina takes the offered sweater and ducks into the nearest bathroom, coming out a moment later with her soiled clothing balled up in her hands. The soft red sweater is fitted but quite tame compared to Ruby's usual outfit choices, the most casually dressed Ruby has ever seen the mayor.

"Here," says Ruby, holding out a plastic bag she'd obtained from a passing nurse. Regina shoves her clothes into it and out of sight, vaguely wondering if she can even get the blood out of them. Odd - the victory she once thought she'd feel when Snow White's blood was finally spilled does not come to her now. She just feels strangely numb and hollow… with a dose of bitter anger when she remembers the way Emma had screamed over Mary Margaret.

Even under a curse, Snow manages to get in the way of her happiness.

"She loves you, you know," Ruby whispers, and Regina's head snaps up, eyes blazing.

"What?"

"Emma. She loves you."

"I know that," Regina snaps, though the doubt and insecurity is clear in her eyes. Ruby takes a chance and reaches out again, gently grasping her wrist and giving it a squeeze. To her surprise and relief, Regina allows the small touch of comfort instead of jerking away.

"What she said when… What she said, she was in shock, you know? She didn't mean it."

Regina does pull away then, her jaw working again, eyes suspiciously shiny as she turns her head to glare at the wall and avoid Ruby's gaze. "Thank you for the sweater, miss Lucas. I'll have it dry cleaned and returned by tomorrow evening."

"Regina--"

"Goodnight." She breezes past the younger girl, swiftly putting an end to the conversation. Her heels announce her arrival in the waiting room and August's expression is a mixture that she can't quite put her finger on. Worry, sympathy… fear?

"Regina," he says softly, barely a whisper as she slows and stops a few feet from them, her dark eyes uncertain. He hesitates, equally uncertain, then offers a timid smile. "Today has been… traumatic. Why don't I drive you both home now?"

She just nods, following him wordlessly as he carries a still unconscious Emma out to the Bug. Regina slides into the passenger seat and he gently deposits Emma into her arms, then makes the short drive back to Mifflin Street. He once again carries Emma while Regina flits nervously around the house, pulling all the drapes shut and checking the locks on every door and window. When August carries Emma up the stairs and towards her bedroom, Regina makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat.

"My room," she says quickly, nervously. "I… I would prefer to keep her close tonight."

"Of course." He sets Emma down on Regina's bed, leaving the woman to tuck her in while he peers out the bedroom window and then pulls the drapes shut tightly. "Regina, can I stay here tonight? In the guest room?"

He turns to look at her, worry in his eyes, silently begging her to let him stay close where he can make sure they're safe. If someone is out to harm Regina, then Emma is also at risk. Letting loose the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, Regina nods.

"I… yes." She reaches out, touches his forearm and squeezes gently, a silent thank you. He says a soft goodnight and slips out, going to check the house one more time just to assuage his own concerns.

Regina slowly strips and changes into silk pajamas, then retrieves a sleeping gown from Emma's room and carefully begins to change the still sleeping child's clothing. Emma stirs, but she doesn't wake until Regina is climbing into her side of the bed and tugging the blankets up under her chin.

"Gina?" she whispers hoarsely, jerking into a groggy sort of wakefulness when she realizes they're no longer in the hospital. Her eyes are red and puffy and she looks momentarily scared, clinging to the sleeve of Regina's silk pajama top as the brunette tries to sooth her. "Gina? Is-- is Miss Blanchard--"

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, Emma. She's… she's still in surgery. She'll be fine."

Emma's chest rises and falls a little too fast, comprehension slow to appear on her face as she absorbs what she's told. There's momentary relief on her face, glad that Mary Margaret is still alive, at least… and then that is replaced by the blank look of someone remembering something, then shock, then horror. Regina can see it on Emma's face, the realization of what she'd said. Her heart clenches painfully at the same time Emma's face crumples.

"I'm sorry," Emma cries, dissolving into tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Shhhh." Regina pulls her close, arms tightly embracing Emma as the blonde tucks her head in under her chin, face pressed to her collarbone, tears soaking into silk. "It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. I'm not angry. Please don't cry. I love you."

Emma just cries harder, clutching desperately to her, her apologies a hoarsely whispered chant that lasts until she succumbs to exhaustion once more, whimpering in her sleep, her fingers never losing their grip on Regina's shirt. Cradling the girl close, Regina presses kisses into blonde hair and whispers her forgiveness against her ear, even as her heart aches and aches and aches, breaking within the painfully tight confines of her chest.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're heading towards the final stretch now; hang in there! All my love to everyone who left me a review, you guys are the best! Mwah! ♥

September is a strange time. With Mary Margaret recovering nicely in the hospital and August and Graham constantly hovering nearby for their protection, Emma becomes clingier than ever. It's clear she's trying to make up for accidentally calling Mary Margaret "mom", and though the memory still stings, Regina is thankful for all the love and affection she's been receiving. Emma is truly sorry, she knows that, and her attention is like a warm salve for Regina's many wounds.

Graham still has nothing on who had tried to shoot Regina, just a bullet casing and Ruby's description of an unfamiliar dark haired man with "wild eyes." The lack of security cameras in their idyllic little town means there aren't really any leads for him to look at, so he's resorted to putting up Wanted posters of a vague sketch and asking all the townfolk to keep an eye out for any strangers in Storybrooke. As the days of peace and quiet stretch on, however, they start to wonder if the shooter has perhaps given up or fled.

Belle's absence from the hospital does not reach Regina's ears, much to August's surprise. The lack of proper surveillance cameras in the hospital is the only reason he hasn't been arrested yet, he's sure of it, because after some snooping around the hospital, he can surmise this much: Nurse Ratched is pissed, the hospital staff are whispering, and they're trying desperately to track down the missing 'patient' and return her before Regina even notices she's gone. The likelihood of that happening is almost zero to none, however. Regina has not checked on Belle since long before they arrived in Storybrooke, and Nurse Ratched has no intention of telling her about their missing prisoner. All for the best, August and Emma agree, but it hangs over them like a guillotine waiting to drop nonetheless.

In the last week of the month, Regina begins pulling together final plans for Emma's birthday party, making sure the invites are all sent, the entertainment is booked, the bouncy castle will arrive on time, and that Granny has everything she needs to cater the event. August and Ruby have been extremely supportive—they've both spent more time at the Mifflin house than anywhere else lately—and Regina considers the both of them her closest friends at this point, an unfamiliar but very welcome concept.

"You're not getting a clown, right? I was serious; the kids will have nightmares," August says one morning, he and Ruby lounging on patio chairs in Regina's yard after August had checked the surrounding area and deemed it safe. It's a Tuesday and Emma's still in school, so they'd taken the chance to get together and chat. Regina sets a tray of lemonade down for all of them and reclaims her own seat with a chuckle.

"No, no clowns. I've had Sidney learning magic tricks for the last few weeks, and Archie's bringing Pongo for the children to play with."

"That man is whipped," August snorts, amused. He'd been worried when he first met Sidney months ago; the man had eyed Emma suspiciously and seemed almost jealous of her. (His lovelorn obsession with the Mayor was obvious to anyone with eyes.) When he realized Emma was the apple of Regina's eye, however, he quickly turned kind and doting, always eager to bring her a piece of candy or a little toy and hoping that she might convince Regina to favour him more. (Poor fool, really. Emma saw right through him and made sure to remind Regina every once in a while that she thought Sidney was a weirdo.)

"Granny's excited," says Ruby, slurping at her glass of lemonade. "She's got a bunch of recipes she wants to try, and since you insisted on making the birthday cake, she's intent on making a million types of little treats and desserts instead. The kids are gonna be on a sugar-rush."

"Well, remind her again that I'm grateful," Regina says, smiling. It feels refreshing to show gratitude, especially now that she knows their friendship and assistance is offered without expecting anything in return. Granny, especially, is a surprising addition to the small pool of people Regina considers friends, and she makes for a wonderful babysitter on the days that Regina, Ruby, and August are all busy. (Regina also happens to knows that Granny still has that crossbow of hers behind the front desk of the BnB, and the thought gives her peace of mind in regards to Emma's safety.)

"Of course." Ruby grins, licking her lips and setting her glass down on the table. "So, August and I were discussing the day of the party. Since he'll be here helping you set up and I'll be helping Granny bring all the food over here, we thought Archie might watch Emma for the morning and then bring her and Pongo when we're ready. What do you think?"

"That sounds reasonable," Regina agrees, pursing her lips. "But I might feel better if Graham watched her instead. I know nothing's happened for more than a month, but..."

"True, but Emma also kind of hates Graham," August says, smiling wryly. He and Graham have become partners of sorts in keeping an eye on the Mifflin property and making sure Regina and Emma are protected at all times, and they've gotten along swimmingly, though he knows Emma still hasn't quite forgiven the other man for what he did.

"I know," Regina murmurs, momentary guilt flashing through her eyes. August feigns ignorance.

"What'd he do to earn Emma's wrath? The kid doesn't normally hold grudges like this."

Pursing her lips, Regina debates telling them the truth. Ruby has this devious look on her face and August just looks baffled.

"Graham and I used to have an... agreement, of sorts. I stopped calling him when Emma arrived, so he came to the house one day and, well..." She clears her throat, unable to stop the flush from reaching her cheeks. "Emma misunderstood and thought he was attacking me."

Ruby nearly snorts out her lemonade in laughter. "Oh my god!"

"It's not funny," Regina complains, but she's smiling even as Ruby rolls around on her patio chair and August shakes his head at the both of them.

 

On Wednesday, August offers to babysit Emma after school, which means a quick and sneaky trip to the hospital to visit Mary Margaret. They've been in to see her a few times, and the brunette looks livelier and happier every time, her recovery coming along quite nicely.

When Emma scuttles into Mary Margaret's usual room today, however, the brunette is nowhere to be seen, the thin bedsheets rumpled and her wheelchair missing.

"Excuse me," August calls after a passing nurse, "has Mary Margaret been moved?"

"Oh, no, I think she's visiting another patient," the nurse says, pausing in her tracks to tap a pen against her lip, her other hand clutching a stack of clipboards. "The John Doe just down the hall in ICU. She's been sitting with him lately to pass the time."

They thank her and head over to David's room, somewhat surprised to find Mary Margaret there. She's bundled up in a hospital robe in her wheelchair, sitting next to David's bed and reading quietly to him from some sort of paperback novel. When the door squeaks open, her head snaps up and she flushes prettily.

"Oh! Emma, August. I didn't know you'd be visiting today."

"Hi, Ms. Blanchard," Emma greets with a warm smile. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm a lot better, thank you. Doctor Whale says I should be able to leave soon."

Plodding over, Emma surveys the scene and grins in amusement. It seems her mother has taken her advice after all. "Whatcha reading?"

"Grimm's Fairytales," she admits, closing the book and setting it aside, away from Emma's innocent five-year-old eyes. At August's look of surprise, she smiles sheepishly. "They're dark, but I find them very fascinating. Certainly nothing like our modern day fairytales."

"Dark is an understatement," August chuckles as Emma shuffles a little closer to the bed to check on David. A nurse pops in at that moment to give Mary Margaret a scolding look.

"It's time for your checkup, Ms. Blanchard. You really shouldn't wander off without telling me."

"Sorry," Mary Margaret says with a smile that doesn't seem very sorry at all. She's never been one for being cooped up. Allowing the nurse to wheel her away, she sends August and Emma a parting wave. "See you later!"

"Bye." Emma waves, pursing her lips once her mother and the nurse disappear out the door. Mary Margaret hadn't been conscious when she'd made her slip all those weeks ago and for that she's relieved. It would have been one more complication they didn't need right now. Turning back to her father's comatose form, she gives his limp hand a squeeze and sighs. "Sorry, Dad."

"What happened wasn't your fault, Emma. He wouldn't blame you for it," August says softly, lowering himself down into the visitor's chair while Emma rests her arms on David's bed. She has a somber, contemplative look on her face and her brows pinch together as she rests her chin on her arms.

"I dunno. I've been thinking, August. No one has their memories, so who would want to hurt Regina?"

August frowns. "No one except—"

"Gold," Emma finishes, nodding. "Who seems to care a lot about Belle... who had been locked under the hospital because of Regina."

"Ruby saw someone outside right after the shooting, though, and it wasn't Gold."

"Maybe he hired someone else to do it." Emma shrugs, pushing away from the bed with a huff. "Regardless, it means the shooting happened because we released Belle and gave Gold a reason to want revenge. My mom got shot because of me. _Regina_ almost got shot because of me. Hell, she's probably still in danger."

Her expression scrunches up with guilt and frustration, and August is quick to scoop her up into his arms and hold her close despite her half-hearted resistance. "Hey, don't beat yourself up over it. We were doing the right thing—we didn't know it would end up in someone getting shot. You can't blame yourself for that."

"Still, I just..." She grunts and runs a hand through her hair. "Everything's gotten so complicated."

"I know." August shakes his head. "Look, I'll talk to Gold and see what I can do. In the meantime, at least we know your mom wasn't the target. She'll be fine."

"Yeah..."

They sit in silence for a while, Emma curled up in August's arms, the soft beep of David's heartbeat monitor a familiar and calming sound. After a long few minutes, Emma tilts her head up and gives her adoptive brother a conflicted look.

"Will you— will you help me protect Regina?"

Her voice is small, timid and afraid of rejection. They have always had each other's backs, but this is a request that goes against what they both had originally set out to do, and the sad smile August gives her is a testament to how much has changed in the past five months.

"We'll protect Regina," he says quietly, and neither need to say anything more.

 

Mifflin house is quiet for once, and Emma is restless as she waits for Regina to return home. August sits with her in the living room with the TV on and the volume low, his knee bouncing impatiently. The plan is for him to go talk to Gold once Regina relieves him from babysitting duty, and she's running late tonight.

"Check again," Emma says, grimacing. August pulls out his phone and frowns at the last text he received from Graham, stating that he was escorting Regina back from town hall. That was nineteen minutes ago, four minutes longer than it usually takes them to drive home.

"I'll call him," August offers, but the lock on the front door clicks open at that moment, promptly followed by the familiar tap of heels entering the house.

"Gina!" Emma nearly shouts, launching off the couch and eagerly running for the front foyer. August follows in time to see Regina kick off her heels and drop to her knees to welcome Emma's hug.

"Hello, darling. Sorry I'm late," she murmurs, smoothing down Emma's hair as Graham peers in from the door. He nods and waves to August before leaving again, pulling the front door shut with him. When Emma continues to cling on, Regina looks up and gives August a questioning look.

"It's been a long day, she missed you," he offers. Regina manages to stand up and lift Emma with her, grunting from the effort, then tilts her head at August.

"Would you like to join us for dinner?"

"Oh, no, thank you. I've got a few errands to run, and then I was gonna go see Ruby tonight. I'll see you both tomorrow, huh?"

"Of course. Thank you, August." Regina smiles as August slips by her, his hand landing momentarily on her arm and giving it a squeeze.

"Bye, Auggie," Emma says, and then he's gone with a meaningful look. Regina locks and deadbolts the door, then slowly makes her way around the first floor to check the back door and all the windows, Emma still in her arms like a baby koala. Everything is covered up by dark curtains, and once she's double checked all the locks, she heads into the kitchen to heat up their leftover tapas from yesterday.

"What would you like to do this evening?" Regina asks once their food is hot, carefully removing it from the oven to distribute onto plates. Emma kicks her feet back and forth where she sits on a bar stool, sucking her lower lip into her mouth to chew in contemplation.

"Can we eat and watch a movie?" she asks, already wondering what might be available on Netflix. August had set it up for them months ago and she and Regina have been slowly making their way through the Animated selection.

"Well, alright," Regina relents after only a moment's thought. Despite her initial reluctance, Emma had coaxed the woman into letting them eat dinner in the living room on multiple occasions, and since the little blonde takes extra care to keep crumbs on the plate and grubby fingers to herself, Regina finds that she doesn't mind so much anymore. "Why don't you go pick out a movie, and I'll bring the plates and napkins, hm?"

"Okay!" Emma hops off her perch and scurries for the living room, turning on the TV to start browsing through available movies. By the time Regina arrives with their dinner on a tray, Emma's already seated cross-legged on the couch, the remote in hand.

"What have you picked out for us?" Regina asks, perching next to her and spreading out a napkin across Emma's lap before giving her the plate. Her eyes land on the TV screen and her brows crinkle with confusion. "This doesn't look like an animated cartoon, sweetheart."

Emma just grins. It's _technically_ Disney-owned. "Nope. It's Star Wars."

 

The bell on the door chimes overhead and August frowns, squinting into the dull lighting as he steps carefully into the shop. It's quiet and the room smells faintly of dust and old, lacquered wood. From the back, the muffled _thump, thump_ of a cane against the floor precedes Gold's appearance, brushing the curtain aside as he steps into the main room. A golden ring on his left ring finger glints in the light and his lip automatically curls at the sight of August.

"Mister Booth. What can I help you with today? Looking for a trinket for your little Savior friend? Or perhaps something of the more magical variety?"

August gets the feeling he's being mocked and scowls. "I'm here to ask you a few questions."

"Is that so?" Gold positions himself behind the counter, leaning his cane against it and then resting both hands on the glass. An eyebrow lifts in query. August figures he may as well just cut to the chase; Gold is likely going to be cryptic enough for the both of them.

"Did you have anything to do with the shooting?"

At that, a little huff of a laugh escapes the older man, lips curling in an amused smirk. "The shooting? Whyever would I try to harm Miss Blanchard?"

"She wasn't the target of the shooting; Regina was. But you knew that, didn't you?"

"Are you insinuating that I tried to shoot Regina? Heavy accusations, Mister Booth."

"Maybe, if not for the fact that I know you have reason to want her dead."

"And what reasons would that be?" Gold leans forward, eyes glinting, his smile challenging. August closes the distance and moves right up to the other side of the counter, setting his hands on the glass and leaning forward into Gold's personal space. Whatever attempt at intimidation he's trying, however, has very little effect on the Dark One.

"Where's Belle?" he asks instead, annoyed that Gold doesn't even try to back away. Gold's lip twitches.

"Resting," he says, at the same time the curtain rustles and Belle emerges from the back room, blinking owlishly at the sight of them.

"Huh," August says, eyeing Gold almost smugly before straightening up and flashing his most sweet, charming smile in Belle's direction. "Evening, Belle."

"Hello, August," she chirps, brightening at the sight of her rescuer. Gold must have been keeping her hidden from the public eye because August hasn't seen her since saving her from the hospital all those weeks ago, and there hasn't been any gossip around town about an unfamiliar brunette. "What brings you here?"

"Just thought I'd come by and see how you were doing," August lies smoothly, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners with the genuine-looking smile he'd long ago perfected. "You're looking well. Freedom suits you."

"Thank you," she says, though she looks slightly exasperated by the 'freedom' comment. "Rumple won't let me go anywhere but the store and his house, though."

"Rumple?" August repeats, quirking a brow at Gold while the man ignores him entirely.

"As I've said, it's not safe for you, Belle," Gold explains patiently, turning to face her. "The town can't know about you, not yet, not while Regina is still in power."

"I don't understand why this 'Regina' person would want to lock me up in the first place," Belle argues, visibly frustrated. "What did I ever do to her? I don't even know her."

"Yeah, why _would_ Regina go after her?" August chimes in sarcastically, eyeing Gold. The man sneers at him in response. "And then the attempted murder... awfully coincidental."

"Attempted murder?" Belle repeats, alarmed. Her gaze lands on Gold, questioning. "What's he talking about? There was an attempted murder?"

"On Regina's life, yes," August replies quickly, paying no mind to the filthy look Gold sends him. "First you escape the hospital, then Gold realizes you're alive and were kept locked away by Regina, then someone tries to kill Regina. The story kind of writes itself, doesn't it?"

Brows furrowed, Belle tilts her head at Gold, weariness in her eyes. "Did you—"

"No! Belle, no," Gold says quickly, almost pleading as he holds out his hands in a placating gesture and moves towards her. "I didn't try to kill her, I swear to you."

" _You_ didn't try to kill her," August repeats, nodding his head slightly. As an author, his wordplay is just as sharp, and he gives Gold a knowing look even as the man pulls Belle aside and whispers hurriedly to her. Whatever he says seems to do the job, because Belle relaxes and gives him a timid little smile, excusing herself and waving goodbye to August before disappearing into the back room once more.

"What lies did you manage to convince her of?"

"No lies," Gold says, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he finally turns back to face August. "I told her that I did not make an attempt on Regina's life, and I didn't."

"Someone else did, at your suggestion I would assume."

"Have you any proof?"

"I don't need proof. I know the rest of the town is still under the curse; you're the only one with your memories and a grudge."

Gold leans over the counter again with a sneer. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, dearie."

"Who?" August finds himself leaning back without meaning to, inching away from Gold's gleaming golden tooth and the predatory glint in his beady eyes. "Who did you pay to do it?"

"Who says anything about payment? Regina has more enemies than you can dream of. Perhaps I happened to sell a rifle to an interested customer. What they do with it is entirely up to them."

He grabs his cane again and taps it on the floor, smiling a smug smile that has August's hand itching to punch it off his face. Instead he clenches both hands into a fist, piercing Gold with the fiercest glare he can manage.

"I hope Belle remembers what a piece of work you are when the curse breaks, Dark One," he snarls, all protective anger and vengeance as he turns and storms for the door. "You come after Regina again and I will end you."

Gold chuckles.

"You're terribly protective of a woman you once claimed you'd defeat, Mister Booth," he says almost gleefully as August freezes up in the doorway, his shoulders stiff. "Tell me, has the Savior fallen for the Evil Queen as well? However are you two going to sleep at night once you've broken her curse—and her heart?"

The door slams hard behind August.

 

October the second—the fake date that Emma had claimed as her birthday—comes quickly and lands on a Monday, so they celebrate by having dinner with August, Ruby, and Granny at the diner. Granny makes a giant chocolate fudge monstrosity covered with three flavours of ice-cream, fruit syrup, and far too many sprinkles, and the group share it and actually manage to finish it, though Emma and August both look sick by the end and Regina is quite sure she's given herself a cavity. They head home and squeeze in a movie before bed, and Regina allows her to skip kindergarten on Tuesday for the sake of cuddling on the couch with cereal and more movies.

That weekend is the date of the surprise party that Regina has spent weeks planning, and as it's a well-meaning surprise, August keeps it a secret. Emma had already been quite ecstatic at having dinner with all her favourite people on her 'birthday', so she suspects nothing when Regina tells her that she needs to go into the office for a few hours that morning and that Archie will be babysitting her during that time. With Emma off at the park with Archie and Pongo, August hurries over and immediately sets to work.

"No no, not _there_ ," Regina huffs, flailing a hand at August as he hauls a long fold-out table across the yard, trying not to trip over the two young men from the party shop currently setting up the giant bouncy castle. "We're lining up the tables on this side of the yard, August!" To one of the men working on the castle, "No, no, drag it further away from my apple tree, you _buffoon—_ "

August laughs, depositing the table where Regina had pointed at. "Relax, Regina. Look, I can take care of things out here if you want to take a breather—"

"Says the one who nearly ran the lawnmower up my apple tree earlier," Regina snarks, though there's a glint of amusement in her eyes even as August blushes and rubs at the back of his neck. "There are two more tables in the shed that need to be out here."

"Alright, alright." He rolls his eyes and bumps his shoulder against hers before ducking away from a slapping hand. "Slave driver," he teases upon his return, dragging another table with him.

"Merely taking advantage of free volunteers," she teases back, turning around at the sound of a clatter by the back door. Ruby appears, her arms laden with covered trays and a grin on her face.

"Hey, we're here!" she chirps, moving towards the first table she can spot to set down her load. "Granny's bringing in more stuff from the car."

"Wonderful, thank you," Regina says, giving the younger woman a quick squeeze on the arm as she passes her and hurries to help Granny. August sets the table down in place before hopping over to give his girlfriend a kiss.

"Hey, gorgeous," he beams, helping her spread out the goodies along the table in a neat and organized fashion, knowing Regina would do it otherwise.

"Hey. Emma still completely in the dark?"

"Yup. Didn't suspect a thing."

"Awesome. I can't wait to film her reaction." She pauses and gestures at the handheld video recorder she'd brought with her, the strap slung over a shoulder. "I'm gonna film all day and put together a little video montage of Emma's first big birthday party. Think Regina will like it?"

"I think she'll love it." He kisses her again, pulling her against him and nibbling at her ear until she's laughing and Regina is shouting at them from the back door to stop sucking face and make themselves useful.

 

"Did you have fun at the park with Archie today?"

The question comes from Graham, his lips pulled into a tight smile as he drives Archie, Emma, and Pongo back to the Mifflin house in his cruiser. Emma squints at him from the backseat, looking disgruntled at being strapped into an old, spare booster he'd found at the station and installed in the cruiser just for today.

"Yeah," she says, pleased that all her monosyllable answers thus far are making him squirm with discomfort. A part of her feels a little bit bad at the unrelenting torment she puts him through, because he does seem like a pretty decent guy and he's become good friends with August. The rest of her remembers him pinning Regina up against a wall and that makes her mad at him all over again.

He doesn't try for conversation again and they arrive at the house shortly thereafter, Regina appearing in the front door before the engine has even turned off. Emma struggles with the seatbelt on the booster but, luckily, Archie and Pongo are crammed into the backseat with her, so Archie helps untangle her and she's out of the car immediately, jumping up into Regina's waiting arms.

"Gina!" She gladly hugs the brunette, arms flung around her neck and their cheeks pressed together before she leans back with a tilt of her head. "You all done at the office?"

"Indeed I am, sweetheart." Looking past the child in her arms, Regina offers Archie a kind smile. "Doctor Hopper. Would you like to come in for some coffee?"

The friendly request confuses Emma as they've never invited Archie into the house before, but she enjoys playing with Pongo, so she turns to give the man an agreeable nod as he wrestles his dog out of the car and leads him over by the leash.

"I'd love to," he says with a smile, heading up into the house ahead of them when Regina makes a motion with her hand. Emma watches him walk right into the house as if he knows where he's going, a furrow appearing in her brow at the oddness of it.

"Sheriff," Regina says, redirecting her attention when Graham gets out of the cruiser and shuts the door, stuffing his hands into his pockets and giving her a look. "I trust you'll patrol this neighborhood today and make sure nothing happens?"

"Of course, Madame Mayor," he sighs, patting a hand against his holstered gun before he heads off around the block. Regina carries Emma back into the house, taking her straight through the entryway and towards the backdoor so that she wouldn't see the preparations in the kitchen or the media room.

"What's today?" Emma asks, clearly confused. Regina grins, turning her head to nuzzle their noses together.

"Well, today's a bit of a special day. Don't you know?"

"Umm..." Emma's nose crinkles into what Regina deems her 'thinking' face. "It's just Saturday?"

Emma's still looking at her and not in the direction they're walking, so Regina steps out of the backdoor into the yard and is the first to see the surprise on Emma's face when the shouts of "Happy Birthday!" resonate all around them, followed by the rambunctious cheering of the children and the clapping of the parents. (The number of parents that had elected to join the party and mingle still astounds Regina, though Ruby assures her it's because she's officially a mother now and therefore has been taken into the fold.)

"Wha—?" Mouth hanging open, Emma twists her upper body around to see their backyard, now transformed into a child's dream party complete with a huge, brightly colored bouncy castle, tables covered in snacks and treats, balloons and streamers strung up all around the yard, and a towering pile of birthday presents stacked up just waiting for her to tear into. Her entire class stands in an excitable crowd, bouncing and clapping and hollering their well wishes, and August and Ruby stand just to her side, the latter recording everything on her camera.

"Happy Birthday, darling," Regina says softly, eyes glittering with warmth and affection. Emma turns back to gawk at her, green eyes as wide as saucers.

"You got me a surprise party?" she asks in disbelief. "I've never had a surprise party." She's never had any kind of party before; the closest she'd ever come was movie nights with August, just the two of them sharing a pizza and beers, quietly splitting a small cake to celebrate another year in their dreary lives.

Regina smiles wider at her, eyes hopeful. "Just the first of many firsts."

Emma doesn't respond verbally, just throws her arms around Regina's neck and hugs her tight and mumbles "I love you" against her ear until Regina finally sets her down so that she can be swarmed by her classmates and swept up towards the bouncy castle.

 

"You did good," August says, sidling next to Regina where she hovers by the drinks table after finally slipping away from the other parents. She'd been dragged into their midst once the children were occupied, the other parents curious and fascinated by her transformation from hard-ass Mayor into the affectionate, loving mother they'd seen whenever she was with Emma. It irked her somewhat, to think that she no longer instilled fear or intimidation, but it was kind of nice, too, in a way that she was entirely unfamiliar with. The other parents praised her for her choice to adopt, complimented Emma's sweet personality and politeness to Regina's motherhood skills, and fawned over how lovely the little blonde was. (Regina might have even preened a little bit, convinced that Emma was the prettiest child in the entire town and no one could tell her otherwise.) She eventually tired of the attention, however, and it took a bit of effort to slip away without one of them latching onto her arm with the desire to chat more about their children or the potential of setting them up on playdates.

"I had help," Regina says with a grateful smile. August shrugs, but then shakes his head and turns to face her.

"Really, Regina. I've never seen her so excited before." One hand lifts to rub at the back of his neck in a gesture that she's gotten used to seeing. "She's had a tough life, never got the love or attention that every kid craves, and, well..." After a pause, he shrugs and smiles softly. He'd been close enough to her and Emma when they first walked in to hear the blonde's words, words he'd never heard her say in her entire life and didn't think he ever would. Somehow, this woman—this supposed "Evil Queen" who was so full of love and affection—had done what he thought to be impossible. "She's lucky to have you. I just wanted you to know that."

"Oh." Not having expected such a heartfelt compliment, Regina blushes slightly and crinkles her brows at him. "Thank you, August. That... That means a lot."

"Ah, come on," he says, opening his arms. Despite the softness in her expression, she arches a brow at him and he laughs. "We've come a hell of a long way, Regina. Least you can do is let me hug you."

The brunette's lips split into a smile and she rolls her eyes almost fondly. "Only because you insist, Booth."

She willingly steps towards him and he settles his arms around her shoulders, hugging her gently but firmly. Her head reaches his jaw and he turns just enough to press a quick kiss into her hair, feeling her almost jolt in surprise in his arms.

"Thank you for teaching her to love," he says softly, squeezing her once more before letting go. August grins and slips away again, and when Granny and Ruby appear to replenish the snacks and drinks, they find Regina still standing there with her lips parted in surprise.

"You okay there, Momma Bear?" Ruby asks, amused. Still somewhat stunned, Regina shakes her head and blinks, brows slowly furrowing in bafflement.

"August just said something very kind to me."

Ruby pops a brow, still amused. "He's sweet like that."

"And then he... he hugged me and kissed my head." She almost looks mortified.

"Aww," Ruby croons, immediately delighted by Regina's reaction. She knows the older brunette has never really had any friends until she and August barged their way into her life and home, so the concept of affection between friends is probably entirely foreign to her.

"It's not _cute_ , Ruby," Regina complains, turning an almost pouty frown upon the younger woman. Ruby just laughs and dives forward, one-arm hugging Regina and planting a wet kiss on her cheek before jumping back out of swatting range.

"Get used to it, Gina," she teases gleefully at the look of horror on Regina's face. "We're your friends and it's totally cute."

She bounds away like a giant puppy dog, and Regina is left with only a chuckling Eugenia Lucas to turn her accusing eyes on.

"What? It's cute," Granny shrugs, reaching up to pat Regina's cheek before she, too, leaves Regina to stand there mouth-agape like she's just appeared in some bizarre alternate universe.

 

"Whatcha looking at, Emma?" Abu flops down next to her within the entrance of the bouncy castle, sending her bouncing sideways with a laugh. She rolls over onto her belly and grins, only to grunt in surprise as Vanellope just about lands on top of her, quickly followed by Chip and Dale in a dog-pile of children.

"Oh my god," Emma whines, wondering if she'll ever be free of these kids. She's not nearly as close with the rest of her classmates, at least, so she doesn't have to worry about another ten children landing on top of her. They're all too busy enjoying the extravagant birthday party to bother her, anyway. "You're too heavy!"

"Am not," Chip and Dale say in tandem, rolling off of her and landing on their bellies. Vanellope remains sprawled on top of Emma, grinning ear to ear, while Abu prods her, still awaiting an answer.

"Just checking on my— on Gina," she admits, which has Abu brightening.

"Your mom is awesome! This party is awesome." The others agree wholeheartedly as Emma watches the curious exchange between Regina and August, then Ruby, then Granny. Her eyes soften as she and the brunette make eye contact across the yard and she sends Regina a little wave that is eagerly returned.

"Yeah," Emma agrees with a smile as her friends crowd in around her. "She's pretty awesome."

Sidney sweeps into view in that moment, awkward but trying his best in a black cape and tuxedo, a top-hat on his head and a baton of sorts in his hands. He announces in a loud and dramatic voice that the magic show is about to begin, and Emma and Regina just exchange this amused little grin before she's being dragged down into a huddle on the grass with her classmates to watch the show.

 

"Okay, make a wish," Regina says, settling next to Emma as the blonde leans up to the table and hovers over her birthday cake, green eyes glinting from the six lit candles. Regina's hand is soft on her back and Emma stares into each flame with intent, all her classmates crowded around the table with their breaths held in anticipation after having gleefully sung the Happy Birthday song.

She hesitates longer than necessary and feels Regina lean in next to her, hand rubbing a soothing circle on her back.

"You can wish for anything you'd like, darling. And then close your eyes and blow out the candles."

Emma takes in a deep breath and closes her eyes.

She sees Regina in her mind, wishes that she could protect her after the curse breaks, wishes that Regina won't hate her, wishes, wishes, wishes.

There is an eruption of cheers when she blows the candles out, but all she does is turn around and burrow herself into Regina's arms like a child suddenly craving comfort, and Regina strokes her hair and murmurs gentle words of comfort and embraces her like nothing could ever come between them.

 

By the time all the guests are gone, the mess cleaned up, and all the many presents are set aside for tomorrow, Emma is sprawled out unconscious on the couch and Regina herself is also more than ready for bed.

"Thank you all so much for today," she says to August, Ruby, and Granny, their voices low as they stand in the front entrance and get their shoes on.

"It was our pleasure, Regina," August replies, grinning as he settles an arm around Ruby's shoulders. "Anything to make Emma happy."

"It's what friends are for," Ruby adds with a wink that has Regina looking almost shy and frazzled again. Granny harrumphs and slaps her granddaughter across the arm with a muttered "Oh, stop teasing the poor woman," and then the three of them are gone.

Locking up and making sure every window is curtained, Regina finally retrieves Emma's nearly comatose form from the couch and carries her up to her bedroom to change her into some soft pajamas. Emma stirs just enough to assist in the endeavor with sleepy, drunk-like movements, and then she's clinging onto Regina again like a baby koala as they move into the master bedroom.

"Sleepover?" Emma murmurs, rubbing at her eyes and stifling a monster yawn as Regina tucks her in and slides under the covers next to her.

"Mmhmm. Come here, birthday girl."

Happily obliging, Emma snuggles into the offered embrace, her head resting against Regina's chest as the brunette wraps her up loosely in her arms and settles down for slumber.

"Did you have fun today?" Regina asks softly, one hand lifting to smooth down wild blonde curls. Emma nods, fingers tangling into the silky material of Regina's sleepwear.

"Uh huh. Thank you, Gina."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Regina gives her another squeeze before closing her eyes, exhausted from the eventful day and ready for sleep to claim her. Emma, on the other hand, stares into the darkness, awake and thinking. She had fun, yes, but today is also a painful reminder that her real birthday is coming up soon. In a few more weeks, she has to break the curse, and the inevitable fallout from that weighs heavily in her heart. She can't lie to herself anymore; she loves Regina. _Loves_ her, and it terrifies her that she has no idea what will happen when the curse breaks. The entire town will surely turn on the Evil Queen, and if Regina doesn't hate her for being the Savior and daughter of Snow White, she'll certainly hate her for what she's done.

Regina is on the cusp of sleep when she realizes Emma's shoulders are trembling.

"Emma?" she questions worriedly, lifting her head to find Emma hiding her face against her chest. "Emma, honey, what's wrong?"

Emma says nothing, shaking her head as Regina's shirt soaks up her tears. The reality of the situation and of what she's done are crashing down on her and she can't stop the tears from flowing or the sob from escaping her lungs.

"Oh, Emma—" Regina hurries to sit up, holding the blonde close to her as her little body shakes and shakes and shakes. "Shhh, please, don't cry... What's wrong?"

Still Emma says nothing, shaking her head, unable to speak because—gods, what can she say? Her heart aches with pain and regret and she presses a hand against her chest even if it does nothing to alleviate the pressure.

Cupping Emma's face with gentle hands, Regina lifts her head, trying to read the girl's expressions and finding only fear in those big, watery green eyes. "Please talk to me. You know you can tell me anything."

"I don't w-want to l-lose you, Gina," Emma stutters out in a whisper, cheeks wet and lips wobbling. Regina feels her heart breaking just a little bit at the sheer desperation in Emma's tone.

"Oh, honey, you'll never lose me," she whispers back fiercely, wondering if this is the orphan in Emma speaking, the lost little girl that is used to being abandoned or sent back. "I love you and I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

"B-But what if I do s-something bad?" Emma whimpers, and Regina feels herself tearing up too, aching for this little girl that looks at her like she's afraid to be sent away.

"I'd forgive you, Emma. Nothing you do will make me love you any less. I promise."

"You can't promise that," Emma cries, expression crumpling.

"Of course I can," Regina insists, her dark eyes aflame. "I will _always_ love you. I _promise._ "

Emma sobs and buries herself in Regina's arms again, whimpered "I love you's" and "I'm sorry" muffled against silk. Regina just holds her, unsure of what triggered Emma's fears but knowing she'll do anything to make her happy again.

"It'll be okay, sweetheart," she whispers, pressing kisses to Emma's crown. "Everything will be okay."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say we were getting close to the end, didn't I? Hold on, readers. Just a few more chapters to go. It'll be fine, trust me. ;)

 

One week until her birthday, and Emma cannot hide her fear.

Regina senses her growing anxiety despite her best efforts to appear normal and the two are nearly inseparable, Emma feigning illness to skip school and Regina letting her. Even August, whom had tried to keep some semblance of structure in their soon-to-change lives, gives up as the prophesied day grows nearer, spending long evenings at the Mills household to binge watch movies and share meals together. Ruby doesn't quite understand what has happened to cause such a shift in things, but she joins them on occasion and doesn't question it, perhaps sensing something in the air. The feeling of some inevitable fate looming upon them.

It's on the morning of their last day, Emma in Regina's arms as they lay a bouquet of lilies upon Henry Mills' coffin, that Emma finally breaks.

"Emma?" Regina says, her voice a breathless gasp of alarm as the tiny blonde in her arms starts to tremble. The girl's shoulders heave and her breath comes out in a ragged sob, tears streaming down her face even as she presses her fists to her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Emma cries brokenly, her expression one of heartbreak, of regret and pain and fear all wrapped up in one. Regina feels her own heart aching as she embraces the girl to her, feeling small hands cling to the fabric of her shirt, a wet cheek pressing to her chest.

"Why are you apologizing?" Regina asks softly, her tone one of forgiveness even before she's heard the offense. Her hands are gentle and comforting against Emma's hair and the child just cries harder, clutching to her so tightly that she risks damaging the fine silk of Regina's blouse. The older woman doesn't seem to care. "Baby, please, tell me what's wrong..."

"I-I did something b-bad," Emma hiccups, voice distorted and warbling. "I don't w-want to l-lose you."

"Emma, honey, I already told you, nothing you could ever do would—"

But Emma shakes her head almost violently, eyes red and swollen and face tear-stained. "Please don't h-hate me, please. I l-love you, Gina."

Regina doesn't know what to think of the girl's fearful pleas, worries that it's some sort of triggered reaction borne from her traumatic past with abusive foster homes, and she is quick to carry Emma out of the Mills mausoleum to where August waits for them near the car. He looks pale and withdrawn when they near, and there's a spark of something unsettled in his eyes when he looks upon them.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he says soothingly, reaching out to rub his hand against Emma's back even as she clings to Regina for dear life. "Shhh."

"I don't understand," Regina whispers to him, brown eyes wide. "I know she's been having a hard time these last few weeks, but this— I don't know what's caused it. What did I do?"

"Nothing," August is quick to reassure her. "It's not you, Regina. She's just... She's had a rough past. Sometimes things will come back to haunt her. It'll be okay."

It's the same excuse he's given her all month and she's starting to hate hearing it. Lips pursed, she suggests heading straight home, so August nods and helps get Emma settled in the car before they all ride back together. It's a tense drive and no less tense when they pull up into the driveway to see Ruby's red convertible already parked there, Ruby herself perched on the hood and waiting for them.

"Hey," she greets, smile already fading into something weary and concerned. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing," August murmurs to her, already leading her aside with an arm around her shoulders to whisper reassurances. Regina carries a clingy Emma from the backseat of the Mercedes and turns to her friends with a grimace.

"August, are you sure—"

"Don't worry about it, Regina." He gives her a comforting smile as he releases Ruby to take Emma into his arms. "You've had this board meeting planned all week. Go do what you need to do, we'll keep Emma occupied. Maybe some ice cream at the park will cheer her up, huh?"

He coos the last bit to Emma and she ignores his baby talk, still rubbing at her eyes and sniffling noisily. Regina frowns and runs her fingers through blonde hair, coaxing big green eyes to look up at her.

"It will only be a few hours, honey. I'll make your favourite for dinner tonight, and then we'll watch the next Star Wars movie, okay?"

"Kay," Emma mumbles, a look of adoration shining in otherwise sad, despondent eyes, and her small hands press gently to Regina's cheeks when the brunette leans in to lay a soft kiss to her cheek.

August and Ruby whisk her away in the convertible, parking along the sidewalk by the little shops and getting their frozen treats before strolling out onto the boardwalk. Despite their best efforts, Emma is quiet and sad for most of the afternoon, eating her ice cream in silence and saying very little. Eventually, Ruby departs for her evening shift with a sigh and a wry smile, and August and Emma make the picturesque walk to the park and find a bench to sit at.

"We're out of time," Emma whispers after minutes of silence, voice hoarse and scratchy from crying. August nods slowly, looking ahead, his hands tightly knit together on his lap.

"I wonder how it's going to happen," he murmurs, somewhat absently, as if speaking about the weather. Outwardly, he looks tense and withdrawn, like a man waiting for the axe to fall.

"You need to stay with her," Emma says urgently, turning wide eyes on her adoptive brother. "When everyone remembers. If I don't turn back into an adult right away, you need to protect her."

"I know that, Emma."

"Promise me."

He turns his head. Emma has pivoted in her seat to face him, expression afraid and vulnerable in a way he has very rarely seen. The last time she'd had that look on her face, she'd been eleven years old, clutching her knitted blanket to her chest as a teenaged August had begged her, _"Come on, Emma, trust me, please! Let's go! I'll take care of us, I promise."_

"I promise," he says softly. She nods, once, twice, then faces forward again, shoulders slumping.

"I'm not ready for it to be over."

"It had to end eventually, Em."

She breathes out, a soft and longing sound. "I was happy."

August breathes out too. "I know."

 

August joins them for dinner and a movie that night, purposely drinking a couple extra beers during the movie so that he can pretend to be more tipsy than he really is. Regina offers him the guest room without hesitation and he shuffles off for bed soon after, leaving them alone to go through their nightly routines. When both are minty fresh and dressed in their softest nightwear, Emma lingers at the doorway of Regina's bedroom.

"Can I sleep here tonight, Gina?" she asks softly, eyes wide. Regina scoops her up in response, the two snuggling up together under the covers as the lights are clapped off.

"Are you feeling any better, baby?" Regina coos, tucking blonde hair back behind her ear and pressing a kiss to Emma's forehead. Green eyes flutter shut and she leans up into the touch.

"I love you," Emma says instead.

"I love you too, darling. Can you tell me why you were so upset earlier today?"

Brown eyes shine with concern even in the dark and Emma guiltily looks away, tucking her head under Regina's chin in an effort to hide.

"Emma, if you did something bad, you can tell me. I won't be mad, I promise."

Emma just curls up tighter, a tiny human ball against Regina's chest. "Can you tell me a story, Gina?"

A pause. Regina sighs, arms firmly encircling the child's body. Emma is blatantly avoiding her questions and she doesn't want to push and risk upsetting her further. "What kind of story?"

"A fairytale," Emma whispers, nose tucked against a delicate collarbone. "One no one has ever heard before."

Another sigh. "Okay."

Readjusting herself, Regina seems to think on it a moment before beginning, her throaty voice a warm and comforting sound in the silence of the room.

"Once upon a time, there was a young girl who loved horses. She always rode on her beloved steed Rocinante, escaping into the woods and wildlands as often as she could to escape her wicked mother's wrath. Because of how often she visited the stables, she ended up falling in love with the stableboy.

One day, while out riding, the girl came across a young princess on a runaway horse. She rescued the princess, and in return, the princess wanted the girl to be her new stepmother. The very next day, the King proposed, and the girl's mother forced her to accept."

"But the stableboy?" Emma murmurs with feigned ignorance, though she already vaguely knows how this story goes. It's the first time Regina has actually told her the full story, though - revised as it is - and she is enraptured.

"The girl and her stableboy made plans to run away together, but the princess caught them. Terrified, the girl begged the princess not to tell anyone, _especially_ not her mother. When asked why, the girl told the princess, _'I am in love with my stableboy. He makes me happy, and true love is the most powerful magic of all.'_ The princess promised to keep their secret, and so they parted ways.

On the night before the wedding, the girl and her stableboy were preparing to make their escape when the girl's mother appeared. She... sent the stableboy far away, and forced the girl to marry the King the very next day. And when the girl next spoke to the princess, the princess revealed that she had been the reason the girl's mother found them that night. She was the reason the stableboy was sent away."

"But why?" Emma asks, green eyes shining in the dark. "Why would she break her promise?"

"Because she was selfish and foolish," Regina says lowly, a shadow of disdain lurking at the edges of her voice. "The princess could not keep the girl's secret, and the girl's life was ruined, her true love taken away."

Emma clings tighter to her, and Regina runs a hand soothingly through her blonde locks.

"But fear not," she murmurs, "because the girl fought for her freedom, banished the selfish princess and the ugly king, and rose to become a powerful Queen. She ruled over all the kingdoms, never to be controlled by anyone else ever again."

"And she got her happy ending?" Emma mumbles, blinking as exhaustion finally overtakes her tiny body. Regina tilts her head down, nose brushing against the soft plane of Emma's forehead.

"Almost. She may have won, but the Queen was lonely, you see. Her True Love, the stableboy, was forever lost, and she had no one left in her life to love... Until one day, a little girl came into her life, a daughter for the Queen to call her own."

"And then?" Emma prompts, tilting her head up. Regina's lips press to her forehead and she can feel the woman smiling against her skin.

"And then they lived happily ever after."

Emma hums, closing her eyes and memorizing the feel of Regina’s smiling lips against her skin. “I like that story.”

It’s Regina’s turn to hum noncommittally, saying nothing of how true her story really is.

“I’m glad the Queen got a happy ending,” Emma mumbles, stifling a yawn as she drifts into slumber. “She deserves to be happy.”

“Thank you,” Regina whispers only after she’s sure Emma has fallen asleep.

 

Nothing happens on her real birthdate.

They have breakfast as usual, Regina treating the both of them to chocolate chip pancakes and even allowing them to eat it in the living room in front of the TV. Regina sits curled up in her usual armchair with a mug of coffee, Emma cross-legged at her feet and August on the opposite couch. After dishes are cleaned up and everyone is dressed for the day, Regina heads to work while August pretends to take Emma to school. In reality, they sit in the Bug just around the corner of the Mayor's office, keeping tabs on everyone that enters the building and watching for any potential new behavior from the Storybrooke citizens.

Everyone ambles along like usual, their days and schedules unchanging.

"I feel like we're just waiting for the shoe to drop," Emma mutters, knees bouncing anxiously as she peers out the window. August nods slowly, weary.

"I wish the prophecy had given us _some_ sort of clue. Waiting for something to happen is just..." He trails off and Emma gives a small grunt of agreement.

"You don't think the curse breaking is tied to..." Emma, too, trails off, unwilling to finish the sentence. The mere idea that Regina's defeat - or _death_ \- is what will finally end the curse is too terrible to consider. She can't. She _won't_.

"I... I don't know, Em." August looks conflicted.

"If it comes down to it, I'd rather live this life," she says, something heartbroken and resigned aching in her voice. "Even if my mom never knows who I really am, even if my dad never wakes up, I'd rather _that_ than..."

Her face crumples, torn between two families, two situations that can never coexist. August looks at her like he just might cry, and then he bites his lip and clears his throat, glancing back up towards the mayor's office.

“It won’t come to that,” he says, voice tight, but he says no more.

"You should go check in on her," Emma finally says after some time, sighing and motioning towards the little pastry box they'd picked up from Granny's earlier that day. "Bring her a muffin and just say you were dropping by to say hi."

August sighs, grabbing the box with little complaint. "Yeah, okay. I'll pop in real quick. Be right back." Halfway out of his seat, he adds, "Stay in the car," and then he's gone, jogging up the staircase to the mayor's office while Emma rolls her eyes a little and crosses her arms.

A soft tap to the window is what drags her gaze away from the building.

"Afternoon," a muffled voice says, and she blinks up at the unfamiliar man before rolling the window down just an inch, brow arched in confusion.

"Hi?"

"You must be Emma," he says, smiling cheerfully. When she doesn't reply, he points a finger at his own chest. "Remember that card? I helped you rescue Belle. I was hoping to help you break the curse, too."

"You— you know about the curse? You have your memories?" she asks, mouth gaping open in surprise. He nods, chuckling.

"Yup. I'm a friend of Regina's. Listen, whatever the Dark One told you is a lie. You don't need to kill Regina to break the curse. I know how you can do it without harming her."

"How?" she demands, already pushing the door open, eyes wide and eager. He steps out of the way and holds the door open for her so that she can jump out. "Tell me how. And— who are you?"

At that, he gives a cheshire grin and bows deeply at the waist. "The name's Jefferson."

 

A child-like shriek pierces the air, screams of _Let me go!_ sounding out before they're promptly silenced.

When August and Regina come crashing out of the main doors, the Bug is empty and Emma is nowhere to be found.

 

"How could you?!"

Regina's fury is white hot as she stabs her finger at August's chest, but it's the tears in her eyes that hurts him the most, the utter betrayal that led to Emma's abduction.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, even as Ruby tries to defend him, to hold Regina back from any further physical altercations.

"He locked the doors, Regina, it's not like they could just reach in and—"

"So she opened the door for someone," Graham surmises, brow furrowed and arms tightly crossed with concentration. "Didn't you teach her about stranger danger? How she should never open the door for—"

" _Of course she knows about stranger danger,_ " Regina snarls. "She's not stupid!"

"Maybe it was someone she knew and trusted," Ruby tries, waving a hand at Graham to stop when he opens his mouth to argue. "Who else has Emma gotten to know well?"

Regina pulls away from the younger brunette's grip and shoves August before anyone can stop her. "This is all your fault! If you had taken her to school like you were supposed to—"

"She could just as well have been abducted from the school playground," Graham says, hands held up in a placating gesture. "Look, Reg— _Madame Mayor_ , this doesn't seem like a random kidnapping. It was someone who Emma knew or had reason to trust. They could have gotten to her anywhere. What's important now is that we start searching for her."

"She could be _anywhere,_ " Regina says on a sob, voice cracking harshly. She makes a feeble attempt to beat her fists against August's chest, but this time he grabs her by her wrists and looks her fiercely in the eyes.

"We'll find her," he insists. "I won't let anything happen to our girl. _We'll find her._ "

She bites back another sob and nods, arms curling around her abdomen as August releases her and turns to Graham and Ruby.

"Call the people we trust. We need to spread out and look for places she may have been taken. Empty buildings, isolated homes, any shelters or cabins out in the woods. They'll have to have taken her somewhere less populated, where she won't be heard if she manages to make any noise."

"There are some marked buildings out in the woods we can check into," Graham says, already digging out a map of Storybrooke from a cabinet while Ruby starts making calls on her cellphone. "Some homes further out from town, a few cabins by the lake— there's even an abandoned farmhouse on the edge of town."

"The farmhouse," August suggests first, already digging out his car keys— _Emma's_ car keys—from his pocket. Graham nods, grabbing keys for the Sheriff's cruiser.

"You take Ruby, I'll lead in the cruiser. Regina—"

"Go," she croaks, already grabbing at the Storybrooke map with shaking hands. "We need to split up and cover more ground. I'll drive myself to one of the other buildings."

"She's right," Ruby says. "My car's outside, I'll head off for another location too. It's faster."

"You two can't go alone," Graham protests. "What if—"

"Baseball bat in my car," Ruby tells him proudly, before glancing at the map and tapping at Regina's shoulder. "I'll take the old cannery by the docks."

And then she's gone, a flash of red-streaked hair flying out the door. August studies the coordinates of the old farmhouse one more time before running out as well, leaving Graham to stare anxiously at Regina's hunched form.

"Regina," he tries feebly, to which she finally lifts her head to glare at him.

"Check the cabins out by the northern woods, especially the one owned by Gold. I'll take the eastern side."

"At least take this with you," he sighs, handing over his gun. She eyes it distastefully for a moment, frowning as he shakes it at her before finally accepting the weapon. "Just in case. Do you know how to use it?"

Her only response is to cock the hammer.

"Be careful, please," he nearly begs, retrieving his spare handgun from the safe behind his desk before making his way out the door. Regina glares at the dots on the map once more, committing the coordinates to memory, when her phone rings from her purse and has her jerking in surprise.

She's not sure why she feels the need to answer it at a time like this, but she does.

"Hello, Your Majesty."

"Jefferson," she snarls, even as something terrified and ugly crawls up the back of her throat and threatens to make her vomit. The unmasked glee is obvious in his voice, and that means only one thing. "You took her, didn't you?"

"You took Grace; it only seemed fair," he replies, too casual, too playful.

"You want your daughter back? Fine. I'll have her back to you within the hour."

"My oh my, that was fast. Motherhood has made you soft, Your Majesty." He laughs in amusement and Regina clenches the phone so hard it's a miracle she hasn't crushed it.

"Do we have a deal or not?"

"You have no magic in this world, Regina," he spits, venom just as quick to enter his tone. "You have no way to return her memories, and without them, I'm just a stranger to my own daughter. No. No deal."

"Then what do you _want?_ "

"You still remember where my house is?" he asks instead, smug.

"Yes."

"Good. Meet me there in an hour. Come alone and unarmed. Break either rule and I'll kill her on the spot, understand?"

Dark eyes flutter shut, lips pressing together and trembling. "Don't hurt her. Please."

" _Please_ ," Jefferson mimics her, scoffing quietly. The humor fades from his voice. "I said that to you too, once."

The line goes dead, and Regina feels the phone slip from her fingers and clatter to the floor.

 

The mansion is dark when she pulls up in the driveway, and she glances at the handgun on her passenger seat only briefly before leaving the car without it. When Emma is safe and out of harm's way, however, she's coming back for it. Jefferson will regret ever touching a hair on Emma's head.

"Jefferson!" she shouts as she bursts through the front door, freezing momentarily in the main entrance while her eyes adjust to the darkness within. Fluorescent light glows from beneath a door just down the main hall, so she heads for it without hesitation, throws open the deadbolt, and pushes her way inside.

Within, Emma kneels in the middle of the room with a hand pressed to her head, a small trickle of blood visible at her hairline.

"Emma!" Regina cries out, at the same time Emma jerks her head up in shock and says, "No! Gina, run!"

She doesn't get the chance to move as the hard end of a gun presses into the back of her head. Regina squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, gritting her teeth.

"Jefferson."

"Your Majesty," he greets from behind her, amused. He pushes her with the barrel of the gun and she stumbles forward a few steps. "No sudden movements now. Wouldn't want Emma to get splattered by your brains, would we?"

Emma stares at her with huge, terrified eyes, and Regina can only swallow down the lump in her throat and hold still.

"What now?" she asks, barely hiding the tremor in her voice even as anger boils within her veins, bubbling just beneath the surface.

"Now," he repeats, winding his fingers tightly into the back of her shirt and pressing the gun barrel hard against her skull so that she cannot possibly twist away, "Now we play a little game. Only one of you is leaving this house alive, you see. The question is, who?"

"Kill me and let her leave," Regina hisses.

"No!" Emma shouts, voice hoarse and cracking, sounding utterly shredded from screaming for help previously. "Leave her alone! You said she didn't have to die!"

"She doesn't _have_ to," Jefferson agrees. "Here's the thing though, Savior. I don't think you even know how to break the curse. And since you can't break the curse and give my daughter her memories back, I'll just have to settle for the next best thing."

 _Savior?_ Regina thinks dazedly, wincing as Jefferson jams the gun barrel harder into the back of her skull. He's speaking too quickly, too candidly, and she doesn't understand what he's talking about, why he's telling this to _Emma_ —sweet, innocent Emma, just a child who has nothing to do with any of this—

"Pick it up," Jefferson says with a nod towards... a silver bowl, neatly placed on a side table near the middle of the room like a pedestal. Regina watches with rising dread as Emma stands up on unsteady legs to reach into the bowl and pluck out a blood red apple, one that already has a single bite taken out of it.

"No," Regina breathes out, recognition hitting her like a freight train.

"Had to use the very last bit of magic I had in the hat to retrieve that little gem," Jefferson says, lips twisted into a wry smile as Regina stares in horror and Emma just studies the apple in her hand with slowly dawning realization crossing her features. "Here's the deal, ladies. Emma takes a bite and I let Regina go, or Regina gets her brains splattered and I let Emma go."

"Emma, _no_ ," Regina gasps out, jerking forward even as Jefferson twists harder at the nape of her shirt and taps the gun warningly against her head. "Don't—"

"You'll let her live?" Emma asks, eyes narrowing. "How do I know you won't hurt her after?"

"Well, I guess you'll just have to trust that my word is good," he says, smiling fleetingly. "Take a bite and I won't kill her."

"No!" Regina says again, stronger this time, dark eyes wild with terror as she writhes against Jefferson's hold. "Emma, don't! Put it down, okay? Put it down. Let me protect you. Just close your eyes. It'll all be okay. Close your eyes, sweetheart. Don't look."

Tears stream down Regina's cheeks as she begs, pleading, desperate. Emma's chest heaves as she makes a tiny, strangled sobbing sound and shakes her head.

"We protect each other, remember?"

" _Emma_ —"

"I love you, Gina."

Emma bites down, chews, swallows. Her eyes flutter shut, and she crumples lifelessly to the ground heedless of Regina's screams.

When Regina falls to her knees with a ragged sob, Jefferson follows, crouched behind her with the gun still against her head and his lips near her ear.

"There she is, your little girl, so close yet so far. It hurts, doesn't it?"

Regina has no response, just a broken wail escaping her throat as tears flow unending down her cheeks and her hands clutch uselessly at the plush carpet beneath them.

"Now you know how I feel, your Majesty," he spits, the hard barrel of the gun knocking against her head one last time before he stands and moves away from her. "Enjoy the rest of your life without your daughter."

He slips away without another word and Regina immediately scrambles across the room, gathering up Emma into her arms as gently as possible.

"Emma, Emma, baby, please wake up," she whispers, brushing blonde hair back from the child's face and patting her pale cheeks. Emma is as lifeless as Snow White once was, alive yet _gone_ , her body nothing more than a husk absent of a person.

Regina chokes out a strangled sound, struggling to her feet with Emma's dead weight in her arms and then running for the door.

Jefferson is nowhere to be seen, and nothing stops her from fleeing the house and depositing Emma carefully into the backseat of the Mercedes. She floors it and heads straight for the hospital, fumbling with her phone and trying to call August at the same time, and it's only out of the corner of her eye that she notices the handgun in her passenger seat is gone.

 _"Fuck!"_ she screams, slamming her palms against the wheel, nearly smashing her phone again in the process. She barely manages to call August's number and he answers on the second ring.

"Regina? Did—"

"I'm taking her to the hospital," she says, frantic. The car swerves in her haste and she narrowly avoids hitting a signpost as she careens around the corner of Main Street. "August, she's— god, I don't know if— please just get to the hospital!"

Her words end in a panicked cry and almost dissolve into sobs as the hospital finally comes into view. She parks halfway up the sidewalk when August says he's on his way, and then she's throwing her phone aside and rushing to grab Emma. The main entrance doors slide open and every doctor and nurse on call zeroes in on them when Regina bolts in screaming for help, and then everything after that is a blur.

All she really remembers is shouting _"I'm not leaving her!"_ every time someone tries to pull her away. There are hands everywhere, blue gloves and white coats, doctors speaking over each other as Emma is placed on a gurney and rushed into an emergency room. Regina clings to the gurney railing as Whale grips her forearm and almost shouts questions at her, to which she numbly says— something. Something about an apple and poison, and that's all it takes for the doctors to start pumping Emma's stomach immediately, poking her repeatedly with needles for tests in a desperate bid to find out what she's been poisoned with. But they find nothing, nothing but a few harmless chunks of half-digested apple pumped from her stomach, and they're hooking her up to life support machines when nothing they do can wake her from what seems like a coma.

When August and Ruby finally manage to force their way into the room, they find Regina clinging to Emma's hand as the doctors work around her, frantic and glancing constantly at the heart monitor. It jumps an irregular and unstable rhythm, much like the heaves of Regina's chest as she struggles to remain calm.

"What happened?" August cries out at the sight of Emma's deathly pale features, her tiny body looking even tinier against the stark white sheets tucked around her body on the operating table. Ruby sobs almost immediately, expression crumpled as she reaches to touch Emma's knee as if to reassure herself that the girl is still there.

"Jefferson— I didn't know— she was trying to protect me—" Regina's words are jumbled and she looks close to hysterics when Whale suddenly shoves her out of the way, barking orders at his nurses to get the paddles, and she almost asks why except—

The heart monitor is flat and it's making this terrible high-pitched humming noise instead of the beeping from earlier.

"Come on!" he grunts at Emma, hands hovering out of the way as the nurse shocks Emma again, her tiny body arching off the table before falling limp. "Come back, kid. Come back..."

She's shocked again. Again. Again.

Whale drops his hands, shoulders slumping. His eyes lift slowly to the clock on the wall as the nurse with the paddles steps away and another moves in to take their place, a clipboard in hand and pen at the ready.

"Time of death, twenty two forty."

Regina's knees go out. August's vice-like grip around her waist is the only reason she doesn't collapse. Ruby stumbles back against the wall behind them, a hand clamped over her mouth.

"No," Regina whimpers, vision obscured by tears. It feels like her heart has just shattered into a million little pieces within her chest, escaping through her throat in a pitiful wail as she stumbles forward and lands hard on the edge of the table, grabbing for her little girl. Emma's arm is losing its warmth, the flesh clammy beneath hers, and Regina clings to her with a sob.

"Mayor," Whale says quietly, trying to ease her away, but she pushes him blindly away and raises her head to look down upon Emma's pale face. She looks almost peaceful, as if sleeping.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers brokenly, thick tears blurring her vision and dripping from her cheeks, disappearing into Emma's blonde hair. "You should have never..." She bites back a sob. "This is all my fault. I'm sorry, Emma. I'm sorry."

"Regina," a voice whispers, and it's August at her side, his blue eyes dull, _devastated_ , yet his hand is gentle on her arm, another soul in just as much pain as she is, and she can't be angry at him when this is all her fault in the end.

She has ruined so many lives, Jefferson's included, and now he's done the same to her.

August leans down, presses a kiss to Emma's forehead and sobs gently against her cooling skin, and then he pulls away, one hand on Regina's back, ready to support her, lead her away. She leans down too, even though she cannot bear the thought of saying goodbye, and every molecule in her body _hurts_ when she whispers against blonde hair.

"I love you."

She presses her lips to Emma's forehead, holds them there, prolongs the last kiss she will ever be able to give her.

A burst of magic radiates outwards and she pulls back with a gasp, staring not at the flash of multicolored lights, but at the big green orbs blinking up at her.

"Gina?"


	11. Chapter 11

_"Emma."_

It's a whisper, a breathed reverence. Regina stares down at her in utter shock and Emma just stares right back, green eyes huge, color returning to cheeks that had been deathly pale only moments before.

"You saved me," Emma whispers, eyes turning glossy as her chest heaves beneath the thin white hospital sheets. She reaches up, small hands landing on Regina's cheeks, and that breaks the frozen state the older woman is in as she chokes back a sob and pulls Emma to her, hugging the smaller body with a tight ferocity. Emma nuzzles into her almost instinctively, face tucked into the crook of Regina's neck and arms curled tight around her shoulders, and for a moment neither are aware of the world around them, the people with fog clearing from their eyes and realization turning their mouths into tightly pursed lines.

"Regina," a voice says, hoarse and urgent, and Regina finally lifts her head to see August staring at them in alarm. All around them, Whale and the other doctors and nurses have their heads in their hands, faces pinched in various degrees of discomfort and confusion. Emma stiffens in her arms, yet Regina is still too stunned, desperate, relieved, to realize why they're all turning tense.

"No," Emma croaks, fear crawling its way up her throat, because this isn't how it was supposed to happen. They were supposed to be somewhere safe, somewhere fortified, not sitting in the middle of a crowded hospital room, vulnerable and confused.

"August—?" Regina says, her mind racing to catch up, and the man's eyes turn to her—blue, so very familiar, yet scared now, guilty—and he stands there frozen with his hands hovering awkwardly in the air.

"You broke the curse," he rasps. There's a strangled sound from next to him as Ruby finally pushes herself away from the wall where she'd slumped, staring clear-eyed at Regina and then darting her gaze to August and Emma.

"Oh, my god, Emma," the younger brunette says in realization when she actually stares at Emma again, because this is the baby her best friend had carried for nine stressful months, the baby she'd felt kicking against her hand the last time she'd been able to visit Snow before the curse had taken them all away. Her eyes flicker to Regina then, conflicted and uncertain, and there is a tentative amount of suspicion in her voice when she realizes, "The Evil Queen."

Regina stares back in horror, heart jumping up into her throat as everything clicks into place. Whale is the first to blink his eyes clear and look at her, eyes narrowing and lip curling even as August suddenly moves himself protectively between the bed and the others.

"Your Majesty," Whale growls with the kind of dark disdain that has been largely absent from his personality for twenty eight years. News of the Queen's impending curse had never reached him back then and now he looks like a man justifiably furious at realizing the last near-three-decades has all been stolen from him. "What the hell have you done?"

"Stay back," August warns when Whale takes a menacing step forward, and then he speaks to Regina without taking the risk of looking back at her. "Regina, we have to go. Now."

"We..." Regina falters, short of breath. She can't quite remember how to breathe, not when her world has just crashed all around her, not when everything she's ever done has just been for naught. Not when Jefferson's words reverberate tauntingly in her mind— _Savior, Savior, Savior_ —and her arms slowly lose their grip on the child in her arms.

The child that is supposedly the twenty eight year old spawn of Snow White. The Savior. The destroyer of curses. The destroyer of the Evil Queen.

"Gina," Emma chokes out, eyes welling with tears as Regina's arms fall away from her completely. It's over, she can feel it, and all she wants to do is scream and cry and rewind time. "Gina, I'm sorry, please, I never meant to—"

Regina jerks away from the bed like she's been burnt and stares at Emma with something angry and hurt and shattered in her eyes, her lips parted with each laboured breath and her eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

"You did this," she whispers, and it's broken and defeated, not the angry vitriol Emma had once feared she would receive when the curse broke. When the Evil Queen was finally revealed for who she really was.

Except there is no grand reveal. There is no Evil Queen with dark gowns and darker make-up and hatred on the tip of her tongue. It's just Regina, the Regina she's come to know and love too deeply these past six months, and the look of utter betrayal in her eyes is what breaks Emma's heart into tiny, agonized pieces.

"Gina—" She reaches out a small hand and Regina actually flinches away.

"Don't!" Regina cries, shaking her head vehemently, arms immediately curling around her body, a hand pressed tightly to her stomach. The tears are streaming down her cheeks now, and she cannot withhold a soft sob as she backs away from the bed, from Emma. "Don't."

Dark eyes skitter around the room, at Whale's angry stare and at the nurses with their various looks of hatred and pity, at August with guilt in his eyes and Ruby with conflicted anger in hers, and then Regina is fleeing the room without another word, only the sharp click of her heels and the gasping sobs forcing their way out of her lungs.

"Gina!" Emma cries out, jerking in place, hardly noticing the painful tug of the various needles and tubes still attached to her. _"Regina!"_

"Emma," Ruby breathes out, finally closing the distance to reach Emma on the bed, and there's a newfound love in her gaze, more than just a babysitter but that of a godmother, one who had known her when she'd been only a babe in her mother's belly. "Careful. You'll hurt yourself."

Emma stiffens and pulls away from her hovering hands because she doesn't _know_ what to do with the new recognition in Ruby's eyes, doesn't know how to _feel_ , and all she can think about is Regina fleeing the hospital into a mob of angry citizens, and—

"August, go!" she shouts, when August is still standing there in a dazed sort of shock, and his expression is understandably concerned when he looks at her, still tiny and vulnerable in a six year old body. "I'll be fine. _Go!"_

"But—"

"You _promised,"_ Emma cries, pleading. That sparks something protective in him, and he suddenly grabs Whale by his lapel and snarls in his face with a kind of ferocity that has even Ruby's hackles rising.

"That's Snow White's daughter that just broke the curse and gave you your memories back, so if you touch even a hair on her head, so help me god—"

And Whale just nods dumbly in shock, so August releases him and turns to Ruby, shoulders tense as he regards the young woman who may or may not still be his girlfriend.

"Ruby—"

"Go, do what you have to do," Ruby says faintly, frowning at him even as she remains standing protectively over Emma's small form. "I'll protect Emma."

It's not acceptance, nor is it rejection, and August just swallows down the lump in his throat and nods, meeting Emma's gaze one last time before he, too, runs out the door and hurries after Regina.

"What are you all staring at?" Ruby snarls when the rest of the room's occupants turn their attention on them, and most take the cue to flee the room. Whale stays only long enough to debate unhooking Emma from all the machines before deciding to ditch his curse-given occupation and stride broodily from the room without a word.

"Hold still."

Ruby starts to carefully detach Emma from the many needles and tubes, eyes lowered and lips pursed, and Emma doesn't know what to say in the newfound silence of the room. Thankfully, it's Ruby who breaks the silence.

"You don't look twenty eight."

"It was a spell," Emma sighs, wincing as a needle is gently drawn out from the crook of her arm. "I need the Blue Fairy to help me change back."

"I'll take you to the convent, then. She's a nun in this world," Ruby mutters, expression tight as she tosses the red-tinged items away and presses a cotton ball to Emma's arm to stem the bleeding. "Snow is probably running down Main Street looking for you by now, too. God, I can't believe... you two were right here all this time..."

She closes her eyes, pinching at the bridge of her nose, and Emma clutches the white sheets to her chest in discomfort as the brunette paces. Ruby feels older somehow, wiser, like the burdened werewolf of August's stories, fighting for Snow's side in the war and knowing the taste of blood, of tearing soldiers limb from limb. Gone is the playful and flirty free-spirited waitress she'd come to love. Gone is Ruby Lucas, replaced by the Red of old, and for that, Emma feels her heart ache with mourning.

"Ruby," she says, hesitant, and the brunette takes one look at her—shirtless and pale beneath crinkly hospital sheets—before quickly retrieving her discarded sweater and helping her get redressed. "I need to find Regina."

"We _need_ to find your parents," Ruby says, frowning at her. "Jesus, it's— it's been twenty eight years, Emma. They've lost you for twenty eight years. We have to find them and regroup."

"They didn't know I existed for twenty eight years," Emma corrects, which only serves to make Ruby bristle. "I'm not justifying— Damn it, Ruby, everyone has their memories back. Regina's in danger. I have to make sure she's safe first."

Ruby just stares at her for a long few moments, conflicted, bouncing between disbelief and indignation before settling on something like defeat.

"How can you... how can you love her so much? After all that's happened?"

Emma just gives her a measured look. Once upon a time, Ruby would have been baffled at how such a small child could see through her like that.

"And _you_ don't still care about her? Even now that your memories are back?" Emma asks in return.

"I never asked to befriend her. You— you made me befriend someone I should have hated."

"I didn't make you do anything," Emma points out softly. "You just got to know the real Regina without bias."

Ruby can only smile sadly and shake her head, opening her arms to the tiny body still sitting on the operating table.

"Come on then, princess. Let's see if we can catch up to them."

 

She's halfway down Mifflin Street when August catches up to her.

"Regina— Regina!" Fingers clasp her arm and she jerks out of his grip, striding faster, heels clicking a hard staccato on the pavement. "Regina, please—"

"Leave me alone," she growls lowly, voice rough with tears. August just barely keeps pace with her, eyes darting every which way just in case they're approached. Whatever the citizens of Storybrooke are doing right now, chasing after the Evil Queen is clearly not on their priority list, and for that he is grateful. The few people they've seen on the streets at this hour have scampered away in the opposite direction, quick to disappear into the darkness of night.

"Regina, I'm _sorry—_ "

"Sorry? You're _sorry?"_ Her heels hit the pavement harder, so hard that he's surprised they haven't snapped. "Did you plan this all along? You and— and the _Savior_ . These last six months— _half a year!"_

She storms halfway up her driveway before whirling on him, eyes red and mascara smeared, and August's chest aches with regret as she jabs a finger into his chest and stops him in his tracks.

"I trusted you!" she shrieks, repeatedly stabbing her finger against him. August winces and takes each hit. "I let you into my home! I thought you were my friends! I thought you were my _family!"_

"Regina," he tries, weakly, but she shakes her head as more tears stream from her cheeks.

"I thought you were my family," she says again, voice cracking, her hand falling limp to her side. "I thought— I thought she—"

She breaks off into a sob and August immediately surges forward, pulling her into his arms even as she pushes feebly against him before giving in. Her face presses into the front of his shoulder, tears soaking into his suede jacket, hands clutching at his sides. He wraps his arms securely around her shoulders and holds on, throat tight with the beginnings of his own tears.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, cheek against her dark hair, blue eyes fluttering shut as she cries against him. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. We... We never thought we'd love you."

At that, she pushes away from him, betrayal written across her face again. "Don't you dare lie—"

"We love you, Regina," he says softly. Sadly. Eyes gleaming with tears. "We came here to spy on you and we ended up loving you instead."

Her lips twist with pain, tears trickling down her cheeks as she meets his gaze and throws her arms to the sides, defeated. "Look how that turned out. I hope you're happy."

She turns for the house and August follows, only for her to shove him back and block him from the front door.

"Go. Away."

"I won't leave you alone," he insists, scrubbing the wetness from his eyes. "Everyone's got their memories back. They'll be angry, and they'll—"

"Let them come," she snarls, shoving her key at the lock with trembling hands that belie her nerves.

"What are you going to do?" He closes his fingers around hers, taking the key from her after a moment's struggle. "Regina, it's not safe—"

"I don't care!" she snaps, slapping at his hand when he refuses to return the key.

"Well I do!" he shouts right back, shoving the key into the lock and finally popping open the front door. "I know what we did was wrong, but we _care_ about you and I'm not about to let you go walking into danger! Forget about me, how do you think Emma will feel if you—"

" _Don't you dare,_ " Regina snarls, still inches shorter than him despite her heels yet still going toe-to-toe with him on the front porch, teeth a bright and vicious white against red lips. "Don't you use her against me. Haven't you done enough?"

August deflates a little, brows furrowing together as his shoulders droop.

"Regina, she loves you more than anything."

"I loved my _daughter,"_ she says hoarsely, bitterly. "The Savior isn't her."

"You're right, she's not. She's _mine._ "

When Regina and August whirl around, it's Mary Margaret who stands at the front gate. Except it's not really Mary Margaret, not anymore, not when her face is shadowed with anger and her eyes are dark with history, lips pursed into a tight line and hands fisted at her sides.

"Snow White," Regina husks, lip curling with scorn. "Welcome back."

"Where's my daughter?" Snow demands, eyes darting past Regina and into the open doorway, into the darkness of the mayoral mansion, as if she might catch a glimpse of the little blonde haired girl she had never recognized as her own until now.

"She's not here," Regina snaps, at the same time August says, "She's safe, Snow."

"August," Snow says, finally staring at him as if noticing him properly for the first time. "You were the one who brought Emma here. You... Are you...?"

"Pinocchio," he confirms wearily, dipping his head. "I've protected her the best I could all these years. I swear to you, she's safe. She's with Red."

Snow nods faintly, then, even more faintly, and with a hint of betrayal, she says, "You gave her to Regina."

August glances sideways at Regina's unreadable expression. "It was too early for the prophecy to happen. We came here to spy on her. To... find a way to defeat her."

"And have you?" Snow asks, taking cautious steps forward, glaring at Regina as if she might conjure a fireball.

"Snow, wait," he says, moving between the women, but he doesn't have the chance to say much more.

Not when half of Storybrooke slinks out from the shadows and converges on the front lawn of the mayoral mansion with Whale leading the charge.

"Not to worry, Mary Margaret, we'll handle the _Queen,"_ Whale mocks, sneering as he pushes past her. "She's got a lot to pay for."

"I thought I told you to back off, Whale," August growls, puffing up to his full height as the other man faces off with him.

"You told me to leave the Savior alone, which I did. The Queen, however, deserves no such protection. Move aside, puppet boy."

"I said _back off,"_ August hisses, giving Whale a good shove. When the doctor stumbles, he turns and quickly tries to push Regina towards the door. "Get inside!"

"No." It's her turn to shove him off before striding towards the crowd—the crowd armed with pitchforks and flaming torches, as if they're still in the bloody Enchanted Forest—and flipping her coat tails behind her with the dramatic air befitting a Queen. "You wanted your Queen? Well here she is."

Her hands lift, ready to summon up her signature fireballs in one last fight, one final stand before her accursed life comes to an end— but nothing happens. She looks to her outstretched fingers as if they've betrayed her before Whale's hands are suddenly around her throat and she's being shoved back against a porch pillar, the air getting knocked out of her lungs.

"Let her go!"

Ruby appears from out of nowhere like a red streaked bullet, slamming into Whale and sending him tumbling painfully into the rose bushes, while a tiny head of blonde hair lands between her and the rest of the crowd, all fierce bravado even as she stands a mere three foot two like the runt she is.

Regina wants to cry at the sight of her.

"Emma!" Snow cries, rushing forward towards her and scooping her up into her arms. Emma squeezes her back, indulging in the moment for only a brief second before squirming to be let down. She can feel Regina's eyes burning into her back and hates that she's causing her more pain, more reminders of her loss and the lies she'd been given.

"You need to get these people to leave," she demands, escaping Snow's grip and backing up so that she's standing protectively in front of Regina again. Snow's eyes find Regina's—angry and jealous and hurt, the both of them—and then she's whirling on the crowd behind her with her chin tilted up, every bit the princess she'd been raised as.

"Go find your families, go back to your homes," she announces firmly, resolute. "Gather at the town hall tomorrow morning and we will do our best to answer your questions."

"What about the Evil Queen?" one man shouts.

"She must be punished for her crimes!" another demands. They stir the crowd into shouting their fury and Snow somehow stands strong against them even alone as she is, without her Prince Charming at her side as she'd once been accustomed to.

"I will deal with the Queen," she says, eyes narrowed, daring them to challenge her. "Now go home!"

It's when August and Ruby step forward, flanking her on either side with their eyes dark and their bodies tense and ready to fight, that the crowd disperses with low mutterings of discontent and suspicion. Whale looks furious at their quick retreat but doesn't stick around for the aftermath, shooting Regina a warning sneer before he, too, disappears into the night.

"Fuck," Ruby finally says, breaking the eerie silence and summing up their day quite succinctly. She turns to Snow and says, "Jesus Christ," before pulling the shorter brunette into the tightest hug imaginable. The two best friends cling together for only a moment before Snow is turning on Regina again, reaching out to grab Emma by her thin shoulders and pull her closer.

"Please, it's not like I would hurt her," Regina snarks, but her pain is evident in the roughness of her voice and the wetness of her eyes.

"Regina," Emma says, feebly, but the brunette turns away from them all, stiffening her shoulders and moving into the darkness of her house.

"Stay away from me," is all Regina says before the door slams shut.

The silence befalling the front porch is stifling.

"Emma," Snow finally breathes out, dropping down to a knee to meet Emma's gaze with a hesitant smile. "Oh, my sweet girl. You were here all along. You found us."

"August found you," Emma says awkwardly after a moment, forcing her gaze away from the front door to give her mother a shy smile. And it's... strange, to finally speak to the woman who _knows_ they're mother and daughter. They've been interacting for half a year and only now are they looking at each other without reserve, with full recognition in their eyes.

"August..." Snow glances between the two, brows slowly knitting together. "Emma. I thought the prophecy said you'd break the curse on your—"

"-twenty eighth birthday," Emma finishes. "Yeah. I'm... I'm twenty eight."

"But you're..."

"It was a spell," Emma says.

"A potion from the Blue Fairy," August supplies. "We need her to help Emma transform back into her real body."

"Blue... Mother Superior," Snow says in realization, Ruby nodding along in agreement. "She'll likely be at the convent. I can take you there, after we— oh, David! Your father is at the hospital!"

"The John Doe, yeah," Emma says with a softer smile. Snow's eyes widen, glossing over with tears as she remembers all those Sunday mornings watching the little blonde sit by David's bedside, patting at his hand with a curious sort of familiarity.

"Oh, Emma. You were with him all this time," she breathes out, and this time Emma doesn't protest when she's scooped up into a tight embrace, snuggling against her mother's warm chest like she'd never been able to do before. It's all that she's ever dreamed it would be and more, the way Snow's cheek presses next to hers, the way soft lips kiss at her temple and gentle hands run through her hair, fingers grazing her scalp. Her eyes water and she turns her head so that Snow's sweater absorbs her tears, muffling her little whimper.

"You'd best get to the hospital, Snow, in case David's already woken from his coma," Ruby says after a moment, looking apologetic for interrupting their moment.

"You aren't coming?" Snow questions her best friend with a furrowed brow. Ruby glances at August, at the mansion, and then back to Snow with a shake of her head.

"No, August and I need to talk. And..."

"You'll keep an eye on Regina?" Emma says. Ruby nods and looks guiltily at the house again before meeting Snow's frowning expression.

"She's my friend," Ruby says softly.

"And mine," August adds.

"But..." Snow looks at a loss for words and August can't blame her.

"Think of the last six months, the hardass mayor who was wrapped around a little girl's finger, the waitress who babysat and the social worker who stuck around to have lunch with them every other day at Granny's. We might have been an odd group but we still became a family. None of that disappears just because you've gotten your old memories back."

"Pinocchio," Snow says, like a mother might sound, reproving and disappointed, but August's expression hardens and he gives an adamant shake of his head.

"My name is _August_. And I'm going to stay here and make sure my friend is safe."

"Go on, Snow," Ruby says quietly, her eyes pleading, and Snow just frowns at her for a long moment before reluctantly nodding and turning to leave. Over her mother's shoulder, Emma meets August and Ruby's gazes and receives looks of reassurance from them both, knowing Regina will be safe under their protection.

When Snow and Emma are out of sight, August turns hesitantly towards Ruby.

"Ruby—"

"Pinocchio, huh?" the brunette says, the corner of her lip quirking. August ducks his head with a groan and she chuckles, shaking her head with amusement. "You were barely this tall when I last saw you in the Enchanted Forest," she says, holding a hand out next to her hip.

"Twenty eight years ago," August reminds her, grimacing. "I'm older than you now."

"You are, aren't you?" She smiles wryly, looking contemplative before taking a tentative step closer. August stills, his blue eyes wide with hope. "August, what we had—"

"Was real," he says, but the firmness in which he began with gives way to a note of uncertainty. "It was real, wasn't it? All that time we spent together... did it mean anything to you?"

"Of course it did." Her shoulders sag a little and she sighs, brows pinching together as she runs a hand through her hair. "But August, I'm not Ruby Lucas. I'm... I'm not the happy-go-lucky waitress you met. She was a part of the curse, the flimsiest parts of myself without the darkness, without my history. Ruby's never gone to war. Ruby's never ripped a man to shreds with her teeth and claws. I'm not the woman you—"

"She's still a part of you," August interrupts, reaching forward to clasp her hands within his and inwardly rejoicing when she doesn't pull away. "And I want to get to know _every_ part of you, Red. If you'll let me."

She blinks at him, momentarily stunned to hear her nickname on his tongue before his easy acceptance warms her from the inside out. She thinks of the little boy with the big blue eyes and the little feathered cap always smiling up at her with adoration. The fully grown man standing before her now has that very same adoration in his eyes, unwavering and sure.

"I'd like that," she says softly.

August's smile lights up the entire world.

 

When they get to the hospital, David is struggling to make his way down the empty hall in nothing but a hospital gown, leaning heavily against the wall for balance as his long-unused body readjusts to being alive. There are no nurses or doctors to help him, everyone having abandoned the place after getting their memories back, and the pain he's working through has him squeezing his eyes shut with a grunt, head snapping up in surprise when he hears their footsteps.

"Snow," he breathes, blue eyes blown wide as he stares across the short distance in shock, open-mouth quickly morphing into a big smile.

"Charming," she whispers back, lips curving upwards, and then she's hurtling forward into his arms, his legs giving out and the both of them tumbling to the floor with laughter and shouts of joy. She lands atop him, feels the familiar firmness of his chest and the heat he's always emitted like a human furnace, and she cups his face and kisses him hard to make up for the last twenty eight years apart.

"You found me," he says between kisses, and she props herself up on her elbows to beam down at him, eyes shining.

"Did you ever doubt I would?"

"But the curse—" And he blinks hard, brows furrowing with growing confusion. "Does that mean...?"

"Dad?"

He turns his head towards the little voice and finds Emma standing a short distance away, shuffling anxiously on the spot with wide green eyes and her lip pinched between her teeth. Something in his chest trembles with recognition and David almost chokes down a sob.

"Emma?"

Snow motions for her to come closer and that's all Emma needs before diving into their open arms, burying her head beneath David's chin as his large hand settles against her back and cradles her with infinite gentleness. Snow squeezes them all together despite their awkward position on the floor, all tangled limbs and bony knees, and for a few minutes Emma just soaks it in, letting the warmth of their love curl around her like a protective blanket.

"How— how are you—?"

David leans back to get a better look at her and Emma flushes, swiping the dampness from her eyes.

"A potion from the Blue Fairy. I'll need her to change me back into my adult form. It's... a long story."

Snow nods, not wanting to discuss the complicated details with David quite yet. David just accepts the vague answer with a soft smile and trusting eyes, happy to just be reunited with his family.

"Let's get you to Blue then. I can't wait to see the amazing woman you've grown into, Emma. To defeat the Queen's curse and save us all... We're so proud of you."

Emma's eyes widen slightly in concern before flickering to Snow. Snow, for her part, ushers them all up onto their feet with a straight face and only the smallest furrow between her brows.

"We'll find Blue at the convent. Come along."

 

Turning back into an adult is not so easy a feat, it seems, as Blue stares sympathetically at them from across a mahogany desk, her hands neatly folded together and a finger tapping nervously on the hardwood.

"Without either fairydust or my wand, there simply isn't anything I can do."

"Where do we find either?" Snow asks, imploring of her friend and confidante. "Surely there's something you can try."

"Well, perhaps," Blue says, contemplative. "I don't know if fairydust even exists in this realm, but if we could find my wand, I could turn her back."

"Where do you think it could be?" David asks, tugging uncomfortably at his collar. He's in a simple plaid shirt and jeans, and though the curse had left memories of the modern world in his mind, he's not physically used to the things in this realm.

"Where else would all magical items be?" Blue quirks a brow at him.

"Rumplestiltskin's," Emma supplies, remembering how August had once warned her away from the pawnshop, having seen all manner of dark and magical items there that had left goosebumps prickling his skin. (He'd seen the ghastly puppets, too, remembered Geppetto's stories about how his parents had been accidentally turned into dead marionettes by Rumplestiltskin's potions— and promptly couldn't sleep for weeks.)

"Mr. Gold," Snow says in realization. "Of course."

Emma is the one to convince them to head over immediately, yearning to be in her own body again after half a year of being a child. Snow and David flank her protectively, alert and wary as the bell rings overhead and Gold himself steps out from the backroom to greet them.

"Ah, if it isn't the royal family," he says with a smug little smirk, unsurprised to see them all together. His cane taps the floor and he positions himself on the other side of the main display case, hands resting atop the glass and his eyes gleaming. "What can I do for you, your Majesties?"

"The Blue Fairy's wand - where is it?" Snow demands, striding forward confidently. Emma feels a little surge of pride at the sight. This is her mother, the Snow White August used to tell her stories about, the fearless bandit and the loyal Queen of the White Kingdom. She is kind, yes, but she's also strong, nothing like the meek Mary Margaret Blanchard.

"What makes you think I would have such an item?" Gold's smile is reptilian, as is the way his eyes flicker to Emma the way a predator glances at prey.

"Cut the crap, Rumplestiltskin," David growls, chest puffing up as he sizes up the smaller man. "We're not here to play your mind games. Give us the wand."

"I'm afraid I really don't have it," Gold replies lightly, shrugging and lifting up his hands in a helpless gesture. "Perhaps the Queen has it hidden away somewhere. This was her curse, after all."

"It was _your_ curse, you just tricked her into casting it," Emma snaps, tiny hands squeezing into fists as the temptation to punch him in the nose rises within her. She can feel David's confused and questioning gaze land on her back, but ignores it and shoots Gold her fiercest glare instead.

"Emma Swan," he says instead, the name slithering across his tongue like a threat. She stiffens and he smirks. "Still in a child's body, I see. I take it this hunt for the Blue Fairy's wand is so that you can be restored to your real form."

"What's it to you?" Emma grunts, holding her ground even as Snow and David both set a hand on her shoulder, eager to leave and search elsewhere.

"Here's a good lesson to learn, Savior: never rely on a gnat." Turning, Gold unlocks the cabinets behind him and reaches within, carefully plucking up a glass bottle and holding it out to her. Within the little round bottle sloshes a shimmering golden liquid. "The antidote you're after, to return you to your adult form."

Emma instinctively reaches for it, only for Snow to yank her back.

"Emma, no," she says, quickly turning a glare on Gold. "His help _always_ comes with a price. What's the cost, Gold?"

"No price," he says, unnerving them all with his grin. "I wanted the curse broken, and you've broken it. Think of this as a parting gift."

Untrusting, David is the one to take the bottle from him, holding it carefully in his hand as Snow ushers Emma out ahead of them. They spare the man one last suspicious glance before exiting the shop and crossing the street, eager to put as much distance between them as possible.

"Are we even sure this is safe?" David asks, examining the bottle with furrowed brows as his wife and daughter walk closely next to him. "How do we know it's not poisoned?"

"Why would he poison me now? I did what he wanted," Emma says, frowning. "He has no reason to want to hurt me."

"She's right," Snow sighs, though she looks nervous as she eyes the potion. "Rumplestiltskin may toy with words for his own benefit, but he never lies. If he says this will turn Emma back into an adult..."

"Then I'm sure it will." Emma reaches up towards her father with an outstretched hand, watching the momentary struggle on his face before he reluctantly hands it over. After some debate, she stops and turns to face them, tucking the bottle safely into her pocket.

"Emma?"

"I'm going to go see Regina."

Her announcement has Snow stiffening and David turning pale with shock.

"Sweetheart—" Snow starts, as David sputters, "She's still alive?"

The looks of disbelief on their faces does not dissipate even as Emma explains the past six months to them as quickly as she can, hesitant but truthful as she tells of how much she and Regina have grown to care about each other. David's expression of muted horror and Snow's pained look only grow as she gets to the end of her story.

"I— I died. The sleeping curse Jefferson made me eat killed me. But then Regina kissed my forehead and woke me, and the curse broke—"

" _Regina_ saved you with True Love's Kiss?" Snow asks, her voice faint.  David's expression flips to anger.

"No! That's not possible. That witch—"

"That _witch_ took care of me and loved me for the past six months," Emma interrupts lowly. "I lied to her and tricked her all that time, and I will always regret that, but it doesn't change the fact that we grew to care about each other. She's... she was an amazing mother."

Snow flinches and David looks absolutely wounded, but Emma will not apologize for that. She can't.

"I have to go see her," she says after a moment's silence, shoulders drooping as she sighs. "I... I have to apologize again. What I did was horrible."

"But she's _furious_ , Emma," Snow insists. "We both saw her. She'll never forgive you. If you go over there, she'll only hurt you."

"You don't know her like I do," Emma says softly. "She's changed. She won't hurt me."

Snow and David don't believe her, but when Emma starts the walk back towards Mifflin Street, neither try to argue again, simply interlocking their fingers and walking silently together.

August is alone and sitting in the dark on the front porch when they arrive.

"August?" Emma calls out, scampering up the walkway to get to him and reactivating the porch light sensors, bathing them all in pale yellow. He holds out his arms and accepts her hug, gladly cradling the tiny body to himself.

"Hey, princess," he murmurs, running a hand through her blonde curls before releasing her and casting an assessing look over David as he and Snow approach. David seems less pleased, frowning at the strange man hugging his—for now—young daughter. "King David?"

"You are?" David demands. August hauls himself up to his feet with a sigh and smiles wryly, bowing slightly at the waist in a rusty sign of respect.

"August Booth. You might remember me as Pinocchio."

At that, David relaxes immediately, eyes widening as he looks the other man over more carefully now. "Pinocchio? You were just a boy when..."

Both men remember the day, David much more clearly than August, as for him it felt like only yesterday that he'd put his newborn daughter into a young Pinocchio's arms and shouted at him to run, to get to the wardrobe and get Emma to safety. Regina's dark knights had cut him down shortly thereafter, left him lying there in a pool of his own blood when Snow limped in to find him and collapse at his side. That day hadn't gone as planned at all, but he remembered meeting Snow's tearful eyes with his own blurred ones, a weak laugh escaping him when he knew Emma had escaped and would one day be back to save them all.

"You took care of her?" he asks, voice quiet. August tips his head with a soft smile.

"Best I could for the last twenty eight years."

After a moment's silence, David steps forward and grasps August's hand, setting his other hand on August's shoulder.

"Thank you for taking care of my daughter," he says seriously. August grasps his hand just as firmly.

"She took care of me too," he says with a wry smile. When he glances down, Emma can only blush and roll her eyes a little.

"Where's Ruby?" she asks instead, to which he jerks a thumb behind him towards the mansion.

"Inside. Regina hates my guts right now, understandably, but Ruby managed to convince her to let her in. She texted me a while ago and said they're in the den, talking."

"Wait for me out here," Emma directs to her parents, and when David opens his mouth to object, August steps in.

"I know this must all be very overwhelming for you, David, but trust me when I say that Emma knows what she's doing. And she's right; Regina has changed. She's not the woman you remember from twenty eight years ago. She won't hurt her."

"I'll be fine, Dad," Emma adds, watching David immediately soften at the title. "Trust me."

He nods, reluctant, and Snow presses into his side, their hands tightly clutched together as Emma tries the door and finds it unlocked. Stepping inside the dark mansion, she shuts it gingerly behind herself and moves towards the den, following the soft murmur of Ruby and Regina's voices. Both women go silent when Emma appears, and Regina looks to be seconds away from launching out of her seat and fleeing.

"Wait, please," Emma begs, hands held out placatingly when Regina stares at her with wide eyes, dark pupils trapped between anger and pain. Ruby sits frozen, holding her breath as if waiting to see what this situation is going to turn into before she makes a move.

"You shouldn't be here," Regina says hoarsely, and Emma's heart aches as she makes out the redness of Regina's eyes even in the darkness of the room, angular features lit only by the soft glow of the moon outside the window. "I told you to stay away from me."

"Regina," Ruby murmurs, but quiets when the older brunette shoots her a warning glare.

"What do you want, Savior?" Regina asks, and it's cold and hard and unyielding, nothing like the soft words of affection Emma has become accustomed to. Her voice feels choked, trapped within her throat, and she knows apologies will hardly make a difference, but she doesn't know what else she could possibly say.

"I— I'm sorry—"

"And?" Dark eyes gleam with tears and Regina's lips are pursed into a scowl. "Do you want my forgiveness? Is that it? Are you here to assuage your own guilt?"

"No! No, please, I'm sorry—"

"Apology not accepted," Regina snarls, but it's low and subdued, like a cornered animal too beaten and exhausted to truly fight back. Ruby watches the both of them with wide, sorrowful eyes, and Emma doesn't know what to do, what she _can_ do, because Regina hates her and she has every right to—

"Gina," she whimpers, tears streaming down her face, and Regina recoils like she's been slapped. "Gina, I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can say. _I'm so sorry._ I wish I'd never done it. I love you and you deserved so much better. I should have never..."

And she dissolves into tears, sobbing heavily with her small fists pressed to her eyes, and the next thing she knows she's being wrapped up in warm arms, a hand stroking down her mussed hair in a way that only Regina has ever done.

"I hate you," Regina whispers hoarsely, but she hugs Emma tighter, burying her face against blonde hair with a choked cry and cradling the tiny, trembling body to her. They remain like that for a long few minutes, crying and clinging to each other, until finally Regina pulls away and a bottle slips from Emma's pocket, tumbling harmlessly to the plush carpet below. A dark gaze lands on them and recognition sets a fresh layer of betrayal and heartbreak in Regina's eyes.

"Gina—" Emma croaks, but Regina just picks up the bottle and pushes it into her hands.

"Drink it," the brunette demands, her voice cracking. Emma stares at her, tears blurring her vision. Regina stares right back, taking in every feature. The messy blonde curls, the cherubic face, the button nose and big, round eyes the color of pale moss. She commits the child's face to memory, searing it into her brain... because she knows this is the last she'll ever see of it. Her little girl will be no more.

She wants to scream and cry at the unfairness of it all.

"Drink it," she says again, voice coming out as little more than a broken whisper, and this time Emma uncorks the bottle with a look of despair and holds it up to her own lips.

"No matter what happens, I _do_ love you," she says quietly, and then she tips the bottle and downs the golden contents.

 

Regina sobs, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Her child is gone forever, as good as dead, and in her place is a blonde woman curled upon the carpet in the tattered remains of her clothes, tall and gangly with a defined jawline and hardened eyes. And scars, lining her body like pale silver tattoos, giving away each and every hardship she's ever faced in life. All twenty eight years of it.

 _"Emma."_ It's a heartbroken wail of mourning and Regina doesn't even realize she's the one who said it, just curls up upon herself and cries and cries and cries. Unfamiliar arms curl around her shoulders and hug her against a firm, unfamiliar body, and she sobs into the offered shoulder without refrain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," a low voice whispers against her ear, over and over again on repeat, and it's rough and hoarse and achingly familiar, a deeper version of the tiny voice she'd once adored, and Regina can feel nothing but her own heart shattering.

"You took her from me," Regina cries, pressing swollen eyes into the Savior's shoulder. "You took my baby girl."

"I know," the Savior says, and it's a whimper, full of regret and pain and longing. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Regina cries against her, long and hard, and when she finally pulls away, her eyes are distant and her lips are pressed into a thin, tight line.

"Get out," she says, monotone and emotionless, and the Savior looks at her with wide, heartbroken eyes, but she cannot bring herself to care, not when this woman is the one who's taken away the only person she's loved in decades. "Get out."

"Emma," Ruby whispers, grabbing the Savior by her wrist, and the Savior's eyes are swollen with tears as she reluctantly backs away and moves for the exit.

"Here," Ruby murmurs, offering her coat, and the Savior puts it on over the shredded remains of her child-sized clothing and pulls it tightly around herself, shivering despite the warmth inside the house.

"Regina," she whispers from the entrance of the foyer, and Regina just turns away, leaning heavily against the fireplace mantle for support. Green eyes pierce her back but she refuses to turn again, refuses to acknowledge the Savior.

"Go," Regina says brokenly, shoulders sagging. The Savior doesn't move, just stares at her, miserable but determined.

"I do love you," she says softly, the words so familiar, yet the voice changed. Older. Wearier. "And I'll fight for you. I'll always fight for you."

And then she's gone, striding out of the house and taking her awestruck parents with her, while August remains on guard outside and Ruby lingers hesitantly at the edge of the den.

When Regina's knees hit the floor and she cries herself to sleep that night, Ruby drapes a blanket over her and holds vigil, quietly awaiting whatever morning will bring.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood music for the latter half of tonight's chapter - "Everywhere I Go" by Sleeping At Last. #SorryNotSorry

"How is she?"

"Not good, Emma. She's destroyed. She won't even talk to me. Just wanders around the house like a ghost."

Emma presses her forehead into the wall, her phone jammed against her ear and her shoulders slumped. The ache in her chest is a constant now, yearning to be near Regina even if the other woman hates her. It's only been a day, but after half a year of living full-time with Regina, she's already feeling the loss.

"Are you two doing alright?" she asks after a moment, sighing heavily. Ruby makes a soft humming sound.

"We're fine. August and I take turns keeping watch out front. Granny came by a while back to bring us food. Tried to convince Regina to eat, but, well... none of us are really on her list of friends anymore. I'm surprised she hasn't kicked me out yet. How is it going over there?"

Emma chances a glance down the hall. David stands in the doorway to the meeting hall, tapping his foot nervously and casting worried looks over at her. She needs to get in there, she knows that, but she sure as hell doesn't want to.

She misses being five years old and letting Regina take care of her.

"My mom wants me to give a speech," Emma admits, sounding strangled.

"A speech?"

"Yeah. Wants me to make up something about taming the _Evil Queen_ so that everyone feels safe enough to go back to their lives and jobs here, at least until they can figure out how to find a way back to the Enchanted Forest."

Ruby's growl isn't unlike how Emma feels about the whole thing, but the brunette cuts herself short and says, "Wait, what? A way back to the Enchanted Forest? Why?"

"They want to go back, apparently." Emma frowns, turning on her heel again and pretending to stare out the window to avoid David's eyes. "I don't know. I think that's what they're arguing about in there right now. Don't know _why_ they'd want to go back. We have running water and health care and technology here. If you ask me, Regina did them all a favor."

"Don't let anyone hear you saying that. The common folk have long memories and hold even longer grudges. If you want to be able to protect Regina, you need them to trust you."

"Yeah, win over the common rabble, stop potential mobs, yadda yadda yadda." Emma pinches at the bridge of her nose and makes the mistake of looking up. David's waving for her attention, his brow creased and his face pinched into this sad puppy look that she has zero tolerance against. "I gotta go. Keep me updated, alright?"

"Yeah. Talk to you later, kid." The affectionate nickname stops them both in their tracks, Emma aching and Ruby going dead silent. After a moment, the brunette ventures softly, "I miss you."

 _Not me. The little me,_ Emma thinks, a confusing mix of bitterness and jealousy and sorrow winding around her chest until finally she just smiles sadly. "I know," she says. Another long few seconds later, Ruby hangs up and Emma pockets her phone, moving towards David and watching relief settle over his anxious features.

"Hey."

"Hey." He smiles, lifting an arm, and she willingly steps into his side-hug. "Your mother is handling them for now, but we really think you speaking to them will help."

"Right. Tell them that the Queen is no longer a danger and that they should leave her alone and go back to their cursed lives as if nothing's changed. That'll go over well."

"They're confused and angry, Emma. Everyone might've been trapped here for almost thirty years, but this isn't their home. They just want their lives back from before the curse."

"I think it's too late for that." Sighing, Emma slides out from under his arm and frowns into the packed room, watching the way every single pair of eyes is riveted onto Snow White where she stands at the podium. Snow looks comfortable in the spotlight, fielding questions and concerns from every direction with the grace and poise of a queen. Emma doesn't want to go in there and make a speech. She doesn't want to tell the entire population of Storybrooke what to do now. She doesn't want to be responsible for keeping the town running in the midst of a giant population identity crisis. She broke the curse, she did her part. She's done being the Savior. She never even wanted the role in the first place.

"Emma?"

David touches her arm and she visibly jumps before crossing her arms tightly.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were alright," he says, brow creasing. "I know this is a lot."

She shakes her head. "Yeah. No. I'm fine. Just... processing."

He nods in understanding, eyes drifting towards the stage. "She's waving for you."

Great. Exactly what she needs. Emma waves back, but by the way Snow frowns and motions with her hand, she's wanted on stage.

"Crap."

"You'll do just fine," David says reassuringly, reaching out to rub her back for a moment before she reluctantly heads down the center aisle, avoiding eye contact with the crowds. Snow reaches for her and she jumps up onto the stage on her own, grimacing.

"Hey..."

"Emma," Snow murmurs in greeting, smiling briefly before turning and introducing her to the townsfolk. There's an influx of voices speaking all at once and Emma can only stand there, awkward and uncertain, feeling trapped in place by the weight of all their stares. It's Snow's delicate hand, raising up firmly into the air, that has the noise coming to an obedient halt. Emma shoots her mother a thankful smile before moving to the microphone.

"I know you're all upset and confused, and I know you all have... grievances, with Regina," and it's Snow's warning look that stops the people from lashing out at the mere mention of her name, "but I _promise_ you, she is no longer a threat. Aug— _Pinocchio_ and I made sure of that. We've been here undercover for six months. She _won't_ hurt any of you. All I ask is that you leave her be so that we can focus on what really matters now."

"Reuniting with our families," Snow continues smoothly, carrying on the conversation without giving the townsfolk any time to argue with Emma's singular request. "And finding a way home."

"How are you so sure the Evil Queen won't come after us?" one voice demands.

"What if she tries to stop us from getting home?" another asks.

"Why haven't we already returned to the Enchanted Forest?" a third cries.

Emma squeezes her eyes shut, breathing out slowly through her nose as the noise rises again. She can feel Snow shifting next to her, prepared to intervene, but Emma's hand shoots up and her eyes open with a flash of annoyance, and the entire room goes quiet in surprise.

"As your Savior— do you trust me?" And she hates it, hates the way the words sound rolling from her tongue, but an entire room full of heads starts a slow bob that grows with certainty as Snow straightens up proudly next to her and smiles her most queenly smile. "Then trust that I will make things right again. All I ask is that you find your families, return to your homes, and try to live normally until I have a solution. All I ask is time."

There's a low murmur filtering through the crowd, a lingering discontent that fades into reasonable agreement as more heads bob and faces relax. Snow breathes a sigh of relief.

"That will be all. Everyone go home, go to your jobs. We need to keep this place running smoothly while we're still living here. If anyone has not found a relative, please line up along the wall and we will assist you shortly..."

As the crowd disperses, Emma slides away to the back of the room, watching David move up onto the stage to join Snow and assess the people choosing to remain. A body shifts at her side and she nearly jumps in surprise before realizing it's Granny, the old woman's grey brow lifted in amusement as she holds up a paper bag.

"I thought you might be hungry."

"Oh, thank god," Emma says, snatching the bag with a moan of pleasure when she smells the telltale scent of hot cheese. She digs out the grilled cheese and tears into it without preamble, blushing only slightly when Granny stands there and grins at her. "What?"

"Good to know some things don't change," she says, nodding. Emma swallows her mouthful and frowns slightly, eyebrows drawing down into something unhappy.

"I haven't changed. I'm still me, Granny."

"Oh, I know, child." She pats Emma's arm reassuringly, but there's something sad in her eyes as well, dull with mourning. Her smile is wry and she drops her arms a moment later, turning to watch as Snow and David slowly make their way through the lineup of people.

"What?" Emma asks, sensing the unsaid words. Her chest aches again and her grilled cheese is gripped forgotten in one hand. Granny shakes her head.

"Nothing."

"Granny..."

After a moment, dull eyes lift to meet hers. "Is it true what you and Snow said? We're returning to the Enchanted Forest?"

Emma's jaw tenses. "I..."

"I don't want to," Granny continues, watching Snow and David's progress through the room. "Ruby doesn't want to, either. This curse, this world without magic - it keeps her human. She doesn't have to worry about Turning and accidentally killing people. She's better off here than back there. We have _lives_ here. Good lives."

Emma lowers her head, staring down at the grilled cheese in her hand. The smell of it, once so mouth-watering, now makes her stomach turn. All she can think of is August's stories about Peter, the boy Ruby had once loved and murdered.

"I don't want to go either," she whispers, shoulders hunching with shame. Before she knows what's happening, Granny has her in a tight embrace, the older woman's cheek pressed next to hers, a warm breath against her ear.

"You do what you have to," Granny whispers hoarsely. "But you do it because it's right. Not because of what other people tell you."

And then she's gone, toddling off out of the room before Snow or David even register that she'd been there at all.

 

The line is crossable. Somehow. The dwarves had been dumb enough to test it by pushing poor Sneezy over the chalk mark and he'd only scowled back at his brothers, cursing their Dwarven names and spraying them with a snotty sneeze in retribution. News spread quickly, and those not wishing to remain in Storybrooke and wait for a portal home had left shortly thereafter, packing up their things and their family and driving off for a fresh start in a modern world. Despite Snow and David's attempts, they could not convince everyone to stay, and so a handful of families left and were never to be seen from again.

Gold and Belle disappear. No one knows where they've gone, only that the old shop has been packed and locked up and Gold's vehicle was last seen heading for the town line. Good riddance, most of the people on the council say, and though Emma cannot help but wonder what it is Gold is searching for out there, she is secretly glad the man is gone too.

August and Ruby remain ever diligent, protecting the Mifflin house in turns, with Granny stopping by every so often with entire batches of home cooked meals to make sure Regina eats. After a couple weeks, Regina grows tired of their babying and goes back to some semblance of life, cleaning the house and cooking her own meals and occupying herself with whatever it is she does when she locks herself in her study. Ruby doesn't know, shrugging when Emma asks, but she seems optimistic that Regina is slowly coming back to herself again. Broken—or, well, more broken than before, anyway—but continuing to live regardless.

Emma's every attempt to see the brunette is met by a door that never opens, no matter how hard she knocks or how loudly she shouts. Ruby and August have since been booted from the house, their presence no longer needed as Regina insisted irritably, but they are always lingering outside to make sure no one causes trouble, and thus they're always there to offer Emma a sympathetic look every time she visits.

"Maybe tomorrow," Ruby says one night from where she sits on a bench out front, wrapped up snugly in a quilt and reading a book under the porchlight. She and August keep adding new things to the front yard to make their patrols more comfortable.

"Maybe she'll be feeling more receptive next week," August says another day, from where he works on a motorcycle in the driveway, his tanktop greased and his jeans scuffed. He'd bought the faulty thing from Michael the week prior, wanting a project to occupy his time. He stores it under the awning of the garage and Regina has never said anything about it.

Emma can only feel her frustration and helplessness growing with each passing day that Regina shuts her out, acting as if she does not exist at all. A stark contrast to the way the entire population of Storybrooke cannot seem to _forget_ that she exists, especially after Snow and David proclaim her the new Sheriff after Graham all but threw his badge at them and left Storybrooke the very next day, wanting absolutely nothing to do with any of them anymore.

"I keep hearing these awful sounds in my backyard at night, like some beast has been trying to scratch their way into my house—"

"They're just raccoons, Mrs. Ginger. You know with the woods just at your backyard, they're prone too—"

"They don't sound like no rodents! I'm telling you, Savior, they got to be something snuck over from the Enchanted Forest, something the Evil Queen brought over—"

"Ma'am, I'm not coming out to your property for the _fifth_ time to scare off a goddamn trash panda—"

"A _what?"_

"Good day, Mrs. Ginger."

And so it continues, ringing phones at the station that David awkwardly tries to handle, hands grabbing at her elbows in the middle of the street, people calling out her title when she's just trying to walk to Granny's for a goddamned coffee. Their requests turn to demands and their demands turn to an unending droning sound buzzing through her ears and she wonders why, _why,_ did she ever agree to being a Savior to people who won't even try to save themselves. And all the while, her parents look to her like she's some sort of shining beacon of hope for their people, and some nights the pressure and responsibility feels so heavy that she wonders how she hasn't already collapsed under the weight of it.

Sometimes, it feels like the only thing she can do is walk in the dark, taking solace in the rare moments where she is nothing and nobody, just a shadow in the night.

"Hey, Em."

The sleepy voice drifts to her from a red convertible parked in the driveway. Her feet have led her past the Mifflin manor again. Her home. Her chest aches and she turns to see Ruby peering up at her through the rolled down window with a half-hearted smile.

"Hey, Rubes. How's it been?"

"Quiet." Ruby holds up a steaming thermos. "Regina brought me some coffee. Probably took pity on me when she realized how cold it was getting out here."

Emma nods absently, eyes distant. Concern shines in Ruby's eyes.

"You look tired."

Emma shakes her head. "They're suffocating me."

"Your parents?"

"They believed me when I said I was going on patrol, but sooner or later that excuse won't fly. I go out almost every night now."

"I noticed," Ruby says with an apologetic grimace. "They haven't found anything to... to get to the Enchanted Forest, have they?"

"No, not a damn thing." Emma leans against the convertible, shoving her hands into her pockets with a sigh. "The Blue Fairy is pretty useless without fairy dust, and Gold is gone and there's nothing useful in his shop. They're kinda at a standstill."

"That's too bad," Ruby says, her face blank. Emma gives a wry smile.

"I'm relieved too, Ruby. I don't want to go."

"Oh thank god." Ruby laughs, holding her thermos out the window, and Emma takes it and gulps down a few welcome mouthfuls of hot, aromatic coffee before handing it back. "I know a lot of people want to go back, but I like it here, Em. This place is quiet. Peaceful. I don't have to be afraid of who I am."

"I know." Reaching in, Emma rests a hand on the brunette's shoulder and squeezes gently. "I don't know if they'll ever find a way, but if they do... I want to stay here. With you, and August. And my parents, if they'll stay. Maybe we can even move somewhere else. You always said you wanted to see New York."

Ruby beams, eyes warm, and she reaches up and rests her hand over Emma's and squeezes her back. "I'd like that. And... Regina could come too."

At that, Emma takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through her nose. "I hope so."

"Go home, Em, you're freezing," Ruby says softly, giving her cold fingers one more squeeze before letting go. "I got this."

"I know you do." Smiling reassuringly, Emma leans over to offer Ruby a playful salute. They've grown close again these past few weeks, getting over the initial awkwardness of their age differences before settling comfortably into a new kind of friendship, and she's grateful to have Ruby in her life as someone she can feel free around. "Night, Rubes."

"Night." Ruby winks at her before rolling her window back up to retain warmth, and Emma ambles off down the driveway towards the street with a soft sigh. She's just at the edge of the property when she decides to take the little path up the side of the house, something unexplainable leading her feet. Ruby's sharp eyes pick out her form in the darkness, momentarily tense before realizing it's Emma and relaxing. There's curiosity in her gaze, but Emma just smiles and waves her off before heading around to the back of the house.

The apple tree. It looks... unattended, old apples having fallen to the grass and left to ripen and rot, picked away at by birds and critters until they're just bits of core and soured fruit littered across the yard. Still, a few juicy apples remain clinging stubbornly to the tree, and Emma finds herself drawn to the thick trunk, one hand against the solid bark while the other reaches up and detaches an apple. Out of habit, she polishes it against the chest of her jacket while padding towards the back porch, sitting gingerly on the bench there in a body that no longer fits it quite the same. Her free hand settles on the carved wood, Regina's side of the bench, and tears spring to her eyes unbidden.

"I miss you," she whispers, with only the cold night as her witness.

There's a quiet intake of breath from the gap in the window behind her, and Emma freezes.

_Regina._

"Regina?" She twists around, eyes wide and hopeful, peering into the glassy window in hopes of seeing the brunette. The kitchen is completely dark, though, and the netting to keep bugs out obscures the open gap in the window so that she can see nothing but black blurs.

There's no response, but she can feel it in her bones. Regina is there, frozen somewhere within the kitchen, trying not to make another sound.

"Regina, let me in, please?" she tries, shifting onto her knees on the wooden bench with a slight wince. "I know you hate me, and you have every right to, but please... I just need to see that you're okay. I..."

She pauses, at a loss. There is still no reply.

"I love you," she whispers hoarsely, a hand pressed to the glass. From the murky darkness, she thinks she sees a smudge of skin color, a hand raised in the air, hovering uncertainly— and then it's gone, retreating into the darkness, the shuffle of footsteps leaving the kitchen, and Emma slumps back down onto the bench with the apple clutched to her chest and tears in her eyes, a hollow ache thudding away in her chest.

 

She returns the very next night, sitting quietly on the bench, the window just behind her head. It takes her a while to feel Regina's presence enter the kitchen, a silent spectre in the darkness, but it's unmistakable and soothes the pain in her soul just a little bit, if only for a while. For the longest time, not a single word is spoken, only the quiet sounds of their breathing. Feeling Regina near is enough for now, no matter how much Emma desperately wishes for more.

Eventually, Regina slips away and Emma stands on frozen, creaky bones and shuffles home.

 

A week goes by in this very same manner, then two, and on the third week, Emma returns for her nightly visit to find a heavy quilt neatly folded upon the bench.

"Thanks," she says softly, shaking it out and pulling it snug around herself before sitting down, and she's soothed to feel Regina's presence already there in the kitchen, just on the other side of the window. Perhaps she's perched on a bar stool at the island, where Emma used to always sit when she watched Regina cook dinner.

The brunette says nothing, as always, and Emma just tucks her head down and nestles into the warm quilt, pressing her nose to it and breathing in deeply of the soft vanilla and cinnamon scent that was ever prevalent in their laundry detergent. She's never realized how much she missed that scent until now, and she can't help but get a little emotional as it washes over her, eyes glossing over with tears as she curls herself tighter into the warmth.

They sit in silence, their customary hour passing as quickly as a minute, and when a chair creaks as Regina stands to leave, Emma blurts out, "Gina!"

Regina freezes, unmoving in the darkness, and Emma stands to stare into the reflective window with a conflicted expression, her own teary-eyed gaze staring back at her. She is, as always, at a loss for words, and so after a long moment of struggle, finally slumps her shoulders and lowers her gaze.

"Goodnight, Regina," she says softly, turning away with her head bowed.

"... Goodnight, Emma," a hoarse voice whispers, followed by the shuffle of retreating footsteps, and Emma stands still and cries for a very long time.

 

The next night, Emma talks.

Nothing of significance. Just gossip, mundane chatter, an occasional joke here and there. Regina never responds to anything, but she sits there in companionable silence and listens nonetheless. Every night, Emma finds something new to share, telling her about the strangeness of Storybrooke citizens now that they have their memories back. She talks about the dwarves' probing of the mines, finding nothing but useless rock down below. She talks about how Blue is the shadiest person she's ever met, which actually gets a quiet snort out of Regina, and she talks about Ruby and August being sickeningly cute together, and how her parents are this impossible standard that she feels like she needs to live up to, and that she misses the easiness of Boston sometimes even if August gives her a weary look whenever she mentions it. If Regina's silence somehow gets even _more_ silent during those moments, Emma says nothing about it, just glazes over her words and changes the subject.

Some nights, she even gets a word or two out of Regina other than the quiet bids of goodnight, and it's those moments that Emma strives for. It's all she can think about during the days, wondering what it is she'll talk to Regina about at night.

"My mom's getting suspicious," Emma says one night, sitting curled up within the cocoon of what has become 'her' quilt, a porcelain mug of hot cocoa cradled in her hands. It had been sitting on the armrest of the bench, still steaming when she arrived, and she'd felt the warmth all the way down to her toes at the first sip of the familiar drink. No one could make it quite like Regina did. "She asked me if I was secretly seeing someone every time I sneak out at night. Can you believe that? Like there's anyone my age in this town. They're all either older than me, or a kid. Or taken," she adds, wrinkling her nose at the thought of Ash— er, Ella and Thomas. And Ruby and August. And, well, Gus. "I hope she doesn't think I'm dating Gus."

There's a slight, bemused pause. "The mouse?"

Emma chuckles. "Apparently."

Regina says no more, simply scoffs softly, and Emma smiles and leans her head back against the window pane, eyes fluttering shut.

"I've been trying to talk to them about... you know. Leaving. I mean, I don't want to leave. Ruby and August and Granny don't, either. Life is just better here, better than it could ever be in the Enchanted Forest. We have electricity and healthcare and plumbing, and the kids get to go to school and no one has to worry about ogres or monsters or whatever it is you have back there. If you ask me, you did them all a damned favor."

At that, a low chuckle rumbles out from within the kitchen, and Emma shivers at the sensation that runs down her spine. It's been so long since she's heard Regina laugh.

"I don't think anyone else would agree, dear," Regina murmurs before falling quiet again. After another few minutes, Emma finishes off the lukewarm dregs of her cocoa and sets the mug down softly, rising with a sigh. It's well past midnight and she knows she needs to go to bed eventually.

"Goodnight, Regina," she says quietly, stepping from the back porch.

"Emma, wait," the brunette calls out haltingly, and it's the closest her voice has ever been to the window, and Emma cannot help but squint at the reflective glass, wishing she could see through it to the brunette on the other side. "I..."

"What is it?" she coaxes gently, moving closer.

"I... want to go to my mausoleum tomorrow," Regina finally says, voice low and hoarse.

"Oh." Emma blinks. "Of course. You're not under house arrest, you know. You can go wherever... I mean, definitely keep August or Ruby with you just in case anyone bothers you, but—"

"At night," Regina corrects. "When no one will see me."

Realization hits Emma like a freight train. Right. Of course. Regina hasn't been out of the house ever since the curse broke two months ago. Ruby has been bringing her all her groceries. Of course Regina doesn't want to go out during the day. Which means she'll be going at night, which means their nightly routine is going to be a no-go tomorrow. "Oh."

Neither of them say anything, unsure of what else to say. Eventually, Regina retreats back into the darkness with a quietly uttered "Goodnight, Emma," and Emma wanders away with her shoulders hunched and her hands buried deep into her pockets, dejection on her face.

 

She arrives the next night regardless, unable to break tradition. Ruby and August are nowhere to be seen, and after checking the back porch, Emma figures that Regina really has left for the mausoleum. Regardless, she sits down on the bench there and waits, shivering in the cold as her usual quilt hasn't been set out. Her leather jacket does little to hold in her body heat but she braves it anyway, not wanting to leave before she can bid Regina goodnight.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway stirs her from her half-asleep daze, sitting up and stretching out sore, cold muscles as the front door opens and shuts, followed by the soft click of heels on hardwood. Soon she can feel Regina's presence entering the kitchen again, silent and considering.

"You're here," Regina says quietly, a note of confusion in her voice. Emma checks her phone briefly and squints at the painfully bright '3:17' blinking back at her.

"Oh. I, uh... lost track of the time." She shoves the phone into her ass pocket and withholds another shiver, standing and turning to face the window even if she can't see Regina through it. Regina, on the other hand, can see her just fine, faintly bathed in the moon's glow, and she immediately makes a little tutting sound of disapproval.

"You're shivering."

"It's not a big—"

"Go home."

"But—"

"Go home," Regina repeats, firmer this time. "You're freezing and barely awake."

After a moment, Emma huffs and slumps her shoulders, her boot scuffing at the wooden boards beneath her. "Fine... Night, Regina."

She turns, trudging away, and just maybe she hears the slightest wry smile in Regina's tone when she says, "Goodnight, Emma."

 

Regina continues to make a trip out to the mausoleum every other night, and though Emma burns with curiosity—not to mention the fact that she still hasn't been able to _see_ Regina while August or Ruby drive her to and fro all the time—she takes care to respect Regina's need for privacy. It would be so easy to step around the side of the house, to lay in wait near the front door, to catch a glimpse of the elusive woman as she makes the short walk from car to house... but she won't. She loves Regina too much to do that, even if it's slowly killing her inside.

"Emma?"

She startles, meeting Snow's inquisitive gaze from across their table at the diner. A sheepish smile creeps across her face. "Sorry. What was that?"

"I said we should do a movie night tonight. Just the three of us. What do you think?"

"Oh." Emma blinks. Tonight isn't a mausoleum night. Regina will be home. "I'm sorry, I've got plans."

"Again?" Snow's brows draw together in frustration, a sigh escaping her lips. "Are you ever going to tell me where you keep sneaking off to every night? Is it a boy?"

"A _boy_ — Mom, I'm not a child." Emma sighs, crossing her arms moodily and leaning back against the booth. "No, I'm not seeing anyone."

"Well, you _should._ You know Gus is handsome and single—"

"And very nice, I'm sure, but I'm not interested. I'm not interested in anyone right now. We have more important things to focus on, remember?"

"Well." Snow smiles, but her lips are tighter than before and her eyes lose their teasing glimmer. "It's... a work in progress."

"Still nothing?"

Snow lowers her voice, mindful of nearby patrons who might overhear. "Blue is at a loss. There's no magic here, no fairy dust in the mines, nothing of use in Gold's shop. She's starting to think..."

She trails off, looking troubled, and Emma leans forward. "Think what?"

"... That perhaps Regina may have something of use."

It's been the first time in weeks that Snow has said Regina's name, her expression terse. She generally avoids the topic, not wanting to open that Pandora's box with Emma, and Emma sits back stiffly with a frown spreading across her lips.

"What do you mean? You think Regina has some sort of magic or portal hidden somewhere that can lead back to the Enchanted Forest?"

"She did cast the curse, Emma," Snow says carefully, "She surely brought over her things just in case. Books, ingredients, potions... Magic. Blue could use those things to find us a way back home."

"It's not _my_ home," Emma says shortly, shaking her head at Snow's wounded look before sighing. "Look, I'll ask Regina about it."

"When were you two on speaking terms?" Snow questions, eyes narrowing. Emma stiffens.

"It's been over a month. We talk sometimes. It's not a big deal, okay?"

"... Is that where you go every night? Emma, you _know_ how I feel about— about _that."_ A vague hand gesture is all that encompasses Emma and the general space next to her. "I've been understanding about the time you spent with her during the curse, and I know she's kept to herself since then and you want to keep her safe, but it's time to focus on your real family now."

"She _is_ my family," Emma says, her expression hardening in a way that has Snow backpedalling. "I don't care about the bad blood between you two. She's family to me, just like August and Ruby and Granny, and you'll just have to learn to accept that because I'm not changing my mind."

"Emma—"

"Just like I'm not changing my mind about the Enchanted Forest. It's not my home and I don't want to go there. We'll find a way back for everyone else who wants to go, but at the end of the day, I'm staying here."

Snow stares at her with big, pleading eyes, and Emma softens just a little, brows drawing together.

"I hope you and Dad will choose to stay here with me too," she says after a moment, quiet, just barely hiding the tremor of uncertainty in her voice.

"Oh, Emma." Snow reaches across the table for her hand and Emma relents, letting the smaller brunette squeeze her fingers. "You're our daughter. Of course we'll stay. We go wherever you go."

Squeezing back, Emma offers a small smile and a nod before pulling away and moving to stand. "I'll talk to Regina and see what I can find out, okay?"

Snow looks at her, really _looks_ , eyes full of something hard to decipher, and her lips pull into a defeated smile when she nods. "Okay."

 

She doesn't ask. Not right away. She and Regina are still so fragile right now, only talking in the middle of the night when their guards are down and never even _seeing_ each other, and she doesn't want to risk ruining that. Especially when she's sure Regina won't react favorably. The brunette had always been sour when it came to Mother Superior; she imagines it can only get worse now that Blue remembers being Blue.

 _That self righteous little gnat,_ she imagines Regina saying in her usual sneer, and that only serves to bring an amused smirk to her face.

On the nights that Regina is away at the mausoleum, Emma gets to work on the apple tree. There's plenty of work to do, rotten apples to clean from the yard and a giant tree to tend, but Google serves to be her best friend and teaches her all that she needs to know. If Regina notices the slow improvements to her beloved apple tree, she doesn't say anything, though Emma is quite certain the brunette has begun picking apples for use again after the tree looks significantly less encumbered one night.

And then, one night when powdery snow finally decides to blanket Storybrooke mid-December, she sees her.

She's just rounding the corner of the house into the backyard, arriving just before midnight for their usual late-night chats, when she sees a figure silhouetted against the snow-dusted tree and freezes. For a moment she imagines all the worst scenarios—a thief, an intruder, someone sneaking about Regina's backyard where they have no business being—but then she recognizes the slight figure just as quickly, the tension draining from her body and replaced with a whole other type of fear.

The soft crunch of frost beneath her boots has announced her easily enough, though Regina doesn't move or say anything, as if she's been expecting Emma out here. Which... It's five to midnight, of course she knew Emma was on her way. Which means she is purposely out here in the open, no longer hidden in the shadows of the kitchen behind a pane of glass.

Moving cautiously forward, Emma brings herself as close as she dares, not quite within arms reach, her green eyes never wavering from Regina's form. The brunette is wrapped up warmly in a winter coat, a stylish gray peacoat with a red scarf snugly wound around her neck and black leather gloves encasing her hands. She stares up at the apple tree in the blue-tinged moonlight, dark hair glossy and flecked with snow, her back to Emma.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Regina asks softly with a vague hand gesture towards her beloved tree, her voice a low, soothing timber. Emma's eyes remain on the brunette, never wavering.

"Yeah."

Finally, slowly, Regina turns, pivoting on her heels and facing away from the moonlight so that she is outlined by a pale blue light. Her eyes fall upon Emma fully for the first time in almost two months, bathed in the moon's glow, her blonde hair gleaming and her eyes bright. They just stand in silence, drinking each other in. Regina's shoulders rise and fall with a slow, deep breath, and sooty lashes flutter as she feels the familiar ache growing in her chest. A single tear falls gracefully from her eye, rolling down her cheek and disappearing into the scarf around her neck. Emma twitches with the need to comfort her, but otherwise remains frozen.

Dark eyes break the staring contest first, skittering downwards in defeat before landing on the little pendant that glints from the hollow of Emma's throat.

"A swan?" she asks hoarsely.

"A gift from August," Emma explains, her voice cracking from an anxious whisper into something a little stronger. "For my chosen last name in this world. Swan."

Regina blinks. "I see."

As if drawn by a magnet, Emma takes a hesitant step forward. Regina's breath hitches, but she makes no move to retreat.

"I'm—"

"Don't apologize," Regina warns softly, eyes glinting with a halfhearted threat. Emma snaps her mouth shut, hands falling listless to her sides. "It is what it is. I don't want to linger on it any longer."

Emma breathes out, a shuddery breath that turns to mist in front of her. Regina watches her with too soft eyes.

"I miss you," the blonde whispers.

"I miss my little girl," the older woman replies, just as quietly.

When Emma closes the distance between them, she doesn't move, simply goes still as arms circle her shoulders and pull her into a tight and desperate embrace. Resting her cheek on cool red leather, Regina sinks into the hug, arms loosely resting around Emma's waist as more tears trickle down her cheeks. They stay like that for a long few minutes, snow falling silently around them, flakes of cold ice dusting their hair or landing and melting on flushed cheeks.

"Goodnight, Miss Swan," Regina whispers, choking down the little sob trying to make its way up her throat. She pulls away and Emma lets her, arms falling to her sides as green eyes desperately watch Regina walk away, leaving her standing alone in the dark, snowy night.

 

She doesn't see her again. Regina returns to being a shadow in the kitchen window, a voice in the dark, and Emma learns to dress warmer as every night spent sitting on the wooden bench on that back porch grows colder and colder with the bitter onset of winter.

"Whatever you're doing, keep at it," August says one day, joining her for lunch as they sit companionably on a park bench. The sky is clear and the bench is cold even after they dust off the snow, but the soups and sandwiches they have precariously balanced on their laps are piping hot and warm them to the bone, thanks to Granny.

"What do you mean?" Emma dips half her grilled bacon and cheese sandwich into her clam chowder, happily stuffing it into her mouth. August scrunches his nose at her momentarily.

"Ruby and I take turns doing her grocery runs, you know? There's no more alcohol on her list."

The blonde goes still, half-chewed food still in her cheeks, her eyes fluttering as she stares blankly ahead of her. "Alcohol?" she mumbles, struggling to swallow.

"We all cope differently," August says after a pause, shrugging slowly. "But she's getting better... She's getting better, Em."

"Yeah." Tears fill green eyes and August carefully moves his lunch aside to open up an arm.

"Come here, Princess."

She tucks into his side, feeling the way his hand settles over the back of her head much like David does, and something warm and full settles itself into her chest.

"I love you, August," she says softly, ducking her head under his chin, and he just hugs her tighter, tilting his face to press a kiss into her hair.

"I love you too, Em."

 

"Magic?"

Regina's voice is rough and incredulous, and Emma cringes slightly where she sits wrapped up in her quilt on the bench.

"I'm sorry. My— my mom insisted I ask."

"Of course." A soft scoff, then a long suffering sigh. "I don't know, Miss Swan. The Enchanted Forest should be destroyed. Even if I _could_ find a way back, there may not be a realm to return to."

Emma sighs. _Miss Swan._ She supposes she deserves it, too. "I know, but if there's anything... You don't even need to see them. They might be happy enough if you just tell them where your stuff is and let them try to figure it out."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"It's..." Regina hesitates, a grimace clear in the tone of her voice. "It's all hidden in the cellar beneath my mausoleum."

And Emma cannot help but bristle slightly at that. She doesn't want to, doesn't want to insinuate anything, but— "The mausoleum you go to every other night?"

"I haven't done anything," Regina says sharply, the telling screech of her chair against hardwood alerting Emma to the fact that she's stood up abruptly.

"I didn't mean—"

"I know what you meant, Miss Swan."

"Regina, please," Emma pleads, shifting closer to the gap in the window with an apologetic look on her face. She looks like a puppy that's just been spanked, sad and pitiful, and Regina hates that her gut twists guiltily at the sight. "I believe you. I swear. Please..."

Staring at the blonde nearly plastered against the window, Regina's shoulders slump and she sinks defeatedly back onto her chair.

"You _know_ why I visit my mausoleum," she says after a long minute of silence, her voice low. Emma nods, eyes gleaming sorrowfully.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry."

She says nothing more, offers nothing and asks for nothing, and Regina just watches the way her blonde hair glints in the pale moonlight for a while before finally rousing herself from her seat, a resigned sigh escaping her lungs.

"Let's go," she says, grabbing a woolen coat from the wall hook and letting herself out of the back door, watching as Emma promptly spills off of the bench in an awkward tumble of limbs trying to free themselves from the quilt. Green eyes are wide with embarrassment and she manages to get to her feet with minimal injury, awkwardly draping her quilt back over the bench.

"W-Where?" she asks, eyes greedily drinking in the sight of the brunette. Regina pulls her coat on over a plain white blouse and dark slacks, her feet encased in surprisingly low-heeled boots.

"My mausoleum. We can gather my things from there and you can bring it to Snow and her little gnat to cease their whining." She starts off, striding primly towards the side of the house so she can head to the driveway, and Emma stands gaping for a moment. "Come along, dear."

 

August looks suitably startled at having both Emma and Regina in the car with him at the same time, but he wisely says nothing aside from giving them both an amicable nod when they request he take them to the cemetery. Regina slides into the front passenger seat of August's recently purchased 1981 Lincoln—the vehicle painted in a gleaming black and looking like a less stylish cousin of Regina's beloved Mercedes Benz—leaving Emma to slip into the backseat in silence. The trip is awkward, punctured only by the occasional static from the faulty radio, and August quietly offers to remain in the car on guard duty when he pulls up as close as he can to the mausoleum, watching Emma and Regina pick their way across the dark grounds to the concrete structure.

"Regina?" Emma asks, hesitating at the familiar doors when she realizes Regina has fallen behind. The brunette stands still for a moment, eyes glistening, something scared and hurt flickering in her eyes.

"It's..."

"What's wrong?"

After a moment, Regina shakes her head and clears her throat. She looks... sad, resigned. A limp hand motions to the doors and she seems to want Emma to go first.

"I... I had to," she says, barely a whisper. Emma doesn't know what to think; can't help but feel a spark of panic, because what does _that_ mean? Why are those words so dark, so ominous? She turns and pushes open the door, all but bursting into the mausoleum, afraid of what—or who—she might find.

_Emma Mills._

The engraving stares accusingly at her from a small headstone placed reverently next to Henry's coffin, surrounded by weeks worth of flowers, some wilting, others fresh. The engraving itself is crude, done awkwardly by hand, because _of course,_ who in this town would willingly craft such a thing for the Evil Queen now that they have their memories back?

A choked cry startles her from her stunned state, and it takes a moment for her to realize it came from herself. She slaps a hand up to cover her mouth, stumbling back a step and bumping into Regina where the older woman has stepped into the mausoleum. She turns, eyes wide and hurt, and Regina meets her gaze with tearful ones of her own.

"This— this is why—?" Emma rasps, thinking of all those days that Ruby or August would have a bouquet of flowers waiting in their cars for Regina's nightly trips. Regina looks away first, staring down at the headstone with salty tears dripping unhindered down her cheeks.

"I lost her," she says brokenly.

Emma catches her when she collapses. Knees crack against concrete and legs sprawl out awkwardly in every direction as Emma pulls Regina into her, arms cradling the older woman as she curls up and cries, choked and gasping sobs that shake her entire frame, echoing off the cold walls of the little mausoleum. Desperate fingers cling to each other, the both of them trembling, their pain mixing until neither can be sure which agonized sound belongs to whom.

"You took her from me," Regina cries, and Emma feels her heart break all over again as the brunette presses wet eyes against her collarbone, clinging to her as if her life depends on it.

"I'm right here, Regina." Her voice comes out in nothing more than a hoarse whisper, throat tight, lips pressing desperate kisses to Regina's forehead as the brunette curls into her, leaning into the offer of comfort and love even as she sobs.

"I'm right here."

**Author's Note:**

> Update: Yes, I'm still here. No, this story is not abandoned. I work in the film and TV industry so sometimes I get really busy, but I promise this fic WILL be finished eventually. In the meantime, feel free to follow me on social media to get updates, check that I'm still alive, and see other artwork and goodies I may post!
> 
> Twitter @RealNikiFrost  
> Tumblr @Niki-Frost  
> DeviantArt as "NikiFrost"  
> And you can also friend me on Facebook! Message me with a hello; I don't bite! Unless you want me to, anyway. ;)  
> www.facebook.com/author.niki.frost


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